Red and Gold
by aspentree11
Summary: She was cunning and he was impulsive. She was a flammable match and he was a contagious blaze. She was dream but he didn't believe in living in reality. What happens when the Lady of Autumn falls into the world of gold again? Post-ACOWAR
1. Chapter 1

"Mother! Get up!"

Eris was screaming. She had woken up to a slam. She bolted upright, staring at her bewildered son. His eyes were blazing when they landed on Beron. When he first walked in, she noticed, he took his time to look at the scenery in the room. First the windows, then the large paintings, then the grand wardrobe. His eyes looked over the gigantic fireplaces and the cold breeze going through the open windows. His eyes lingered at the dark hard-wood floors and the blood red marble walls. He had never been in the room before, as he was heavily forbidden to enter it by Beron. Because of this, she mostly slept in a plain guestroom, but tonight was a special night, and she was naked. She bundled the blankets around her body frantically. Eris had connected the dots quickly but he was of age to understand that it was one of the many duties she was forced to do in order to stay alive. Unlike the rest of her sons, he had caught Beron doing horrific things to her on multiple occasions – putting hands on her, holding her down, belittling her. At least this didn't have anything to do with violence.

"Eris," she said softly.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?" Beron had snarled, landing on his feet. Unlike him, she had already absorbed the screaming past the walls. Beron's beady eyes only noticed the bloody knife in Eris's hand. Eris had locked the door behind him, starring murderously at his father. She knew for a while now that Eris was planning on taking the crown, despite her constant reminders to him that being High Lord was not something to wish for. And then a thought came to her that caused her stomach to churn. _Was the screaming behind the locked door due to him?_

"Beron," she rasped, taking notice that Eris was yet to speak. She had to give him time to think, to reconsider whatever he could be planning. "Someone's here. In the palace." Beron's head shot towards the door. Suddenly, he heard the grunts as well. The loud thuds, the screeches, the shuffling of feet. If he was able to grow any paler, he would. But his mouth opened and closed, a terrified look gleaming in his eyes. She took in a ragged breath as a blast grew closer to their door.

"What are you doing? Don't stand here like a coward. Go do your duty and fight for your court!" Beron roared at his son, but it was only because Beron knew that he didn't stand a chance against anyone past those doors. Eris's eyes widened. As Beron quarreled with him, she opened the drawer next to her, getting out a knife as well.

"Get her out," Eris demanded simply, nodding towards his mother. After a short moment of puzzlement, his father scuffed at him. Eris didn't give his father a long enough moment to reach mockery – instead he pointed his knife at him, enraged.

"I didn't come here to defend you. I came here to tell you to _get her out_." Beron's head shot towards her. She had reached for a robe that had been left on the ground and she was putting it on rapidly.

"Get that knife away from me," Beron snarled, his eyes round. Her eyes stayed on the walls, trying to ignore the wailing but Eris was right – they had to leave. And she knew, despite Beron's ignorance, why he was wasting his time on giving Beron the benefit of the doubt instead of getting her out himself. Whoever was past those doors wouldn't kill a high lord – it was too messy, filled with far more undesirable consequences than killing a possible successor. If they killed a high lord, the message they were trying to send out would remain unheard because there would be no one left to answer to it. The whole world had watched what happened between the Night Court and the Spring Court all those years ago. It never ended, not really. And unless these people were trying to start a century-long war, which would be tedious and risk far more lives than needed, they would let the High Lord flee.

"Or what?" Eris hissed back. Beron's nose flared.

"No, Beron!" She yelled, but he already lifted his hand. She tried going between them but her son pushed her aside so fast that she stumbled against the wall harshly, making her let out a screech. Yet, as her heartbeat quickened and opened her mouth to yell his name, she realized something was off about her son – he looked far too calm to test Beron's wrath, maybe even bored. Beron rose his hand. A harsh exhale let out, but Eris stayed stagnant. She waited for Beron's magic to hit him, her eyes sharp on Eris, but Beron's hand merely lingered in the air. She blinked suddenly, waiting for a response but then bewilderment flashed across Beron's face. Though Eris was far past impatient, there was a victorious smirk on his lips. Beron's mouth hung open.

"What the-"

"If you would have listened," Eris's voice rang lowly, taking a step towards him, "I would've told you that they put a shield around the palace that ceased all magic from being let out." Beron let out a shaky breath as he took one step back.

"Eris," she let out warningly. But Eris's knife was up. There was a mad glint in his eyes, a moment that his mother had recently predicted. She knew that Eris was preparing to take the throne, but not now. Not like this.

"Stay out of it," he growled at her, and she winced. Her son had never spoken to her with that tone– filled with such coldness. Ruthlessness.

"You'd kill your own father?" Beron goaded. Instantly, his smirk had dropped. A seriousness flooded his face, a moment of honesty. A look that was far more terrifying.

"Yes," Eris said flatly. A loud sound boomed behind him, making the three of them twitch. "If you don't take her with you." Beron shook his head.

"I'm not going out there," Beron stammered. "I'm not risking my-" And then Eris took two careful steps and went for his throat. Of course, that would have been disastrous if Beron hadn't stepped to the side. Eris, though a better fighter, stumbled in shock and Beron took the moment to punch him in the face. The knife flew away, landing next to her foot. And then, just a second later, there were two knives in her hands. There was dead silence as the two males looked over her, so calm yet hesitant. Hesitant because while she had let Beron step all over her for years, she finally held the power. Eris, on the other hand, was desperate. Desperate to get the knife, desperate to kill his father.

"Mother," Eris said quietly, reaching towards her. "Give me the knife." She stepped back, the knives growing heavier in her hand. She had forgotten how it felt – to not feel weak, to feel the power in her veins.

"It's not going to happen like this, Eris," she said, her voice cool.

"Yes, it isn't," Beron interrupted. Her head shot towards him. His eyes were filled with fury but there was a smile on his face. "Give it." The demand, sharp as the knives she held, made her flinch. Whether or not Beron noticed, Eris certainly did. Eris opened his mouth but a large boom interrupted him, making the three of them jump. Quickly, Eris shot towards his father.

"I don't need a knife to kill you," Eris growled. He jumped towards him, lunging, but then the door burst open. She let out a ragged inhale as she stumbled back. A range of men stomped in, wearing colors she didn't recognize. Eris was screaming, trying to scare them away with threats he didn't have. Beron cowered in the far corner.

"One step further and my sons' will kill you!" Beron bellowed. "I'll give you this moment of mercy." The man at front, probably the largest man she had ever seen, chuckled.

"You're implying that you have more than one?" The man rang, and her hand went to her mouth as she struggled to not let out the animal-like sound begging to come out. Despite the fact she loved the rest of her boys, when Eris had barged into her room her only thoughts were towards him. She couldn't help it – he became her favorite when Lucien left. And when her husband was ready to kill him need be, her only thoughts were him.

"They're dead?" she whispered, her voice breaking. Her son was heaving as he stumbled away from the invaders. The man jerked towards her, blinking. Clearly, he hadn't even noticed she was in the room. The smile, thin and sour, lengthened.

"Worse," the man said dryly, "they fled like bastards." Her hand dropped to her side. Eris, who had been standing straight and ready to fight, slackened. She knew what he was thinking – despite his desire to conquer, he had trained them through the years to be braver, fiercer. In a way, she believed that Eris was embarrassed by their cowardice. And in the end, his training had done nothing.

She looked at all of them. The invaders, her husband, her son. She looked at the door that was wide open and how all of their eyes lingered towards Beron obsessively. The man at front was clearly the leader, approaching Beron as he whimpered. And so she did the worse thing possible – she flung the two knives at Beron, letting them fall to his feet. Her son, incapable of understanding why she would give the two knives to his doomed father, looked at her ludicrously but she used the moment of distraction to stumble towards him, grabbing his hand tightly. As the men began to circle Beron, their eyes only on him, they took it as their cue to leave. Of course, in doing so, they had to dodge a number of hands reaching towards them but to her surprise, they made it out of the room.

They ran down the hall, trying not to gape at the trail of blood. Eris's bedroom was wide open and in the doorway was a dead body. Finally, she looked at her son.

"Is this your doing?" She snarled, getting to the stairs. "Did you do this?" Eris opened his mouth, about to answer, but then she felt a hand yank her back. She let out a screech, looking at the man who had caught her. He was looking at her greedily.

"The Lady of Autumn," he whispered to himself, as if she was a prize. "It's so very good to meet you." Eris charged at him but a second man had grabbed him as well. At a distance, they heard Beron's screams. She and Eris were wrong – clearly they were planning on killing him.

"Don't do this," she said softly, her voice calm. The man's eyes were as black as night. "I don't know who you are, or where you come from, but-" And then he punched her in the face. Eris yelled as she fell down the marble staircase, miraculously landing on her side. Yet, everything was spinning. She couldn't concentrate as she opened her eyes.

"Let go of her!" Her son roared. "Don't you-" And then his voice turned into muffles and before she could understand what was happening, to even lift her heavy head in his direction, she felt a black cloth tie around her eyes. She let out a heavy inhale. _It was over_ , she thought. _They were going to die_.

She felt her hands bind together, tying them so tightly that her hands already ached. And when she opened her mouth to scream, two drops of liquid fell into her mouth. She tried spitting it out but the man had closed her mouth, forcing her to swallow it. As it dripped down her throat, her throat burned. Though there was nothing to see, she began to feel dizzy. Distant.

"I always thought you were the prettiest, you know, out of all the ladies. Even against Feyre Cursebreaker," the kidnapper chuckled. "It's a shame that you spent your life with that dunce." That dunce. Dunce, as in her husband. She could hear his screaming, his yells, but his voice grew farther and farther away. She still heard the faint muffles from her son, but they sounded weaker. Even her own breaths felt less lively, as if her lungs were shriveling. She was going to die, she thought. This was how her story ended.

But then she felt a whip of air. No – a whip was an understatement. It was like a tornado had bursted into the room, hitting them with one gigantic wave. Even past the black cloth, she saw a burst of light. Men around her yelped, including her own son. But then she heard the word, one single word that was so soft that it reminded her of a feather.

" _Eva._ "

"Well, this got very-" And then the man who had spoken to her grunted. He banged against something, probably the railing to the staircase, and inhaled raggedly. She tried leaning up on her elbows but whatever he had given her was taking effect. She could barely keep her head up. Everything sounded so far away, she couldn't lift her own body.

"Unfortunately," her kidnapper hissed, and he sounded miles and miles away, "she's off the market." Another voice replied and though she couldn't hear the words, the voice was sharp. Impatient. The other didn't speak for a moment.

"Six million," her kidnapper said finally. Even half-awake the Lady of Autumn felt shocked by his words. The other was quiet for a moment but then he uttered something. Even from where she was standing, she could feel the kidnapper grow happier.

"How am I supposed to know that you won't send her back?" The kidnapper spat, after pondering his words. "Surely even you understand that we have a message to send. Who would we be if we let his lady prance her way back?" And then the man replied fast, his voice sharp as a knife. But before she could hear the rest, she felt her head fall back onto the marble. Slowly, she closed her eyes. There was no reason to fight the sleepiness, not when death wasn't far away.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Everything was white.

When Eva opened her eyes again, she was in a canopy. She didn't move for a moment, only staring at the white cloth that hung over the large bed. Her eyes fell downward, a fear looming in her mind. She was still wearing the robe she had worn earlier but there was red splattered on it and two large bruises circled around her wrists. With her head pulsing with a sharp pain, she sat up. The walls were just as white as the canopy, almost as if they were recently painted. Between the ceiling and each wall was a small strip of gold. The tiles, as she looked down, was white marble with gold specks on them. Slowly and carefully, she got out of the bed. Beside the bed, there were two white flip flops, clearly for her. She slipped into them hesitantly.

She looked at the white door. It wasn't extravagant – just a plain door. But all she could think about was what was past it. _Where was she?_ Vaguely, flashes of what had happened recently echoed in her head but the throbbing made it impossible for her to put the puzzle together. She let out a shaky breath as she looked at the door. Centuries ago, she was brave. She would have opened that door without a hesitation. But now as she eyed it, she was ill with the horrible things that could happen. Who was waiting past those doors? But she knew she had no choice. She had to figure out where she was. So, quietly, she tip toed towards the door. Her shaking hands reached for the doorknob, expected it to be locked, but it opened without making a single sound.

Yet, when she opened her door, a door next to her swung open. She jumped against the entryway of her room but when her son, of all people, walked out of the room to look at her, his eyes were wide.

"Mother!" He said, his face desperate. He grabbed onto her, hugging her. She didn't remember the last time Eris hugged her, the last time Eris hugged _anyone_. But he squeezed her tight. "I've been awake for hours but it was locked. It was locked until I heard your door open and then, _click_ , my door opened for me." Despite her son's shock, she couldn't help but be curious why her door caused his door to unlock.

"Eris," she said flatly, pulling away. "Have you heard anyone outside the hallway?" He shook his head solemnly. Her lips pursed. His eyes danced around though, finally looking at their surroundings. She could tell that he was in awe of wherever they were.

"Summer Court?" Eris asked, his voice feeble. But as she looked at the pure-white marble walls, at the sunshine that beamed against the tile, with the only open windows being on the ceiling, her face tightened.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "The Summer Court looked nothing like this. This has too many walls, too little openings." And her son didn't pester any further. She had realized through the years that she was the only one who he didn't ever get cross with. He never doubted her answers nor bothered to test her.

"Then where are we?" He asked quietly. But Eva was already moving down the hall, taking note of everything she brushed past. Unlike the Autumn Court, there was no need to put torches on the walls. The palace was full of light from the large ceiling windows, showering her with sunshine from the blue sky. As Eris trailed behind her hesitantly, she took notice of the gold vases and artwork that were placed amongst the palace. Even though a lingering fear of where they were was starting to rise to the surface, it wasn't until she found two grand doors already open did she stop.

"Wow." The words came from her son behind her as they both looked at the large dining room. The pure gold table, which could fit at least twenty, was filled with piles of food. From pancakes to eggs to various meats, even Eva couldn't help but gape. On the opposite wall, windows reaching fifteen feet reflected back at them, showing the bright blue sky and overlooking a golden city. She slowly stepped in front of the table, her eyes hovering over the food.

"Most people greet their host before eating," A dry voice interrupted. Eva jumped towards the speaker, her eyes wide. And for just a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

"Helion?" Her son sneered loudly as Helion glided into the room. She, on the other hand, couldn't even speak.

His radiance was nearly blinding when she first eyed him. His dark skin, now looking like a brownish-gold, shimmered as he took a seat at the table. He ran his hands along his dark brown hair and she couldn't help but be marveled on how it turned honey-colored when the sun hit it just right. He sat down at the table as her and her son watched him silently. As they reveled in the awkwardness, he unraveled the napkin next to his sparkly-white plate and carefully unfolded it on his knee. He then persisted on serving himself eggs. She could feel her son revel in anger as they both watched the High Lord eat as if neither were even there.

"I am the High Lord, I demand you tell us why we-" And then Helion interrupted him with a loud snort. Her son stopped speaking suddenly, his eyes turning owl-like.

"Unfortunately, your distasteful father is still alive," Helion chortled, taking another bite of his eggs. "And trust me, boy, if you were a High Lord you would feel it in your veins." Her son was quiet at first, as if finally taking in that they were certainly not in a good situation. Eva suddenly straightened, her hands clamped in front of her formally.

"Helion," she said highly, "Despite your grand generosity, I think it's time for me and my son to travel home." And then his eyes landed on her, and truthfully, she wasn't ready for the pointed look in his eyes.

He analyzed her head to toe. From the top of her red hair, to the curve of her lips, to the pendant around her neck. She pulled the robe closer to her as he continued to examine her generously, his eyes lingering in places that were far from appropriate. At the meeting before the battle, though he had never spoken to her, she caught him looking at the same exact places, except at least at the time he had kept his gaze less noticeable. But this time, he didn't hide that he was looking her over, enjoying the sight of her, remembering what hid underneath the cloth.

"Why are you staring at her?" Eris snarled. Helion merely blinked at him.

"Why am I staring at her?" He retorted back, surprisingly icy. "Because I _can_. Because it's my court. Because no one can do a single thing about it. Certainly not you, at least." The words made Eris flush red. Quickly, she placed her hand on her son's wrist. She could feel his heart racing. And even then, something so protective, Helion still took notice. His eyes lingered at her thin fingers, something she couldn't quite decipher flash in his eyes. Maybe a memory.

"Did you infiltrate our castle?" Eris asked, showing his pointed teeth as he snarled. She noticed how his hands twitched, as if he was about to throw fire at the mighty High Lord but even if he wanted to, nothing happened. His face twisted slightly and whether or not Helion knew why, he didn't let it show.

"Of fucking course not," Helion replied with a chuckle, grabbing a piece of bacon. "Why would I waste my time with the Autumn Court of all places?" Eris's nose flared but a hint of relief flushed over Eva.

"Then why are we in your court?" Her son demanded. Slowly, Helion put the bacon down on his plate. He then took his time to wipe off his mouth, as if there had been crumbs that neither of them noticed. A cold smirk curled on Helion's face as Eris's eyes narrowed on him.

"Because ever so occasionally, not unlike the rest of you, I make stupid decisions." Eris's face filled with puzzlement and Eva's eyes merely narrowed on him. But then he lifted up his hand. She stiffened. Starting at his wrist and ending at the tips of his fingers, a beautiful ancient design twisted around his hand. Eris took sight of his mother's jolt and then back at Helion.

"What? What is it?" He demanded. "Mother, what is on his-"

"You made a bargain," she whispered, her eyes not leaving Helion's. Helion's face had softened. Eris's lips curled upward in confusion, looking between Helion and his mother quickly.

"A bargain?" Eris repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if it was a foreign language. "What do you mean a _bargain_?" But Helion had drowned out the boy, his eyes now lingering on Eva.

"Why?" She demanded, her voice rising as she let go of her son and stepped closer to the table. Helion's smile had dropped. Her son, though on the defense against Helion, looked uneasy when she let go of his wrist. She expected him to retort with a sneer but instead a look of cold seriousness filled his face.

"You have no idea what he would've done to you," he whispered and she could have sworn his amber eyes darkened. Her hands turned into a tight balls.

"What happens to me is none of your-" But then Helion stood from his chair jerkily, letting it fall to the ground.

"He would've killed you, Eva! What was I supposed to do?" Helion bellowed suddenly, his face contorting into hot rage. For the first time, Eva had finally looked him over just like he had looked over her. There were bags hovering under his eyes, his eyes red as if he had not slept at all. Had he analyzed her to prove a point to her son, or was he just trying to find all the bruises that decorated her body? "Just leave you there? Just let you _die_?!" His voice broke at the end. She opened her mouth but then closed it. She had never seen him so angry, so desperate, so broken. Through the centuries of knowing him, she had never seen him react so uncontrollably. To be specific, in the last century, he barely even looked at her when they were in the same room.

"Don't yell at my-" But then Eris's voice choked. She turned to look at him, watching him struggle to speak. Her mouth went ajar, fuming as her eyes landed on Helion but he spoke before she could respond.

"Do you think it was fun for me to see you tied up like some whore they were about to sell?" He continued. "Do you think I wanted to be there? Do you think I wanted _this_?" He held up the tattooed arm again, waving it mockingly. She bit her lip, struggling to say the words that she knew were the most important.

"What was the cost?" She breathed, her voice quiet but just as terrifying. Helion swallowed.

"Let's just say, if I could send back your bastard son, I would," Helion grumbled. Her stomach churned.

"We're…stuck here? The _both_ of us?" She said, choking slightly. He rolled his sparkly eyes.

"Don't try to sound so happy about it, Eva."

"You're a master of spells, Helion. Break the spell and be done with it!" Eva said, her voice rising. Eris flinched back at her tone. Helion's face didn't even flicker.

" _One_ , these bonds are ancient. Even if we did know how to break them, it would still take a while to perform the spell. _Two_ , why do you even want to go back?" Helion snapped back. She could only blink at him, her mouth ajar at the ridiculous comment.

"Because it's my home," she reminded him. "Because my husband-"

"The husband that beats you?" Helion interrupted cruelly. Her face burned. Beside her, her son stiffened.

"Helion-"

"The husband that rapes you and belittles you and brings whores into your home on the daily?" Helion continued with a dark laugh. Her teeth jittered. "The one who forced your youngest son to leave? Who didn't give a damn about you when those men dragged you away like an animal? Who would have sold you if it meant saving himself?" She felt like she was going to puke.

"How did you even know we were under siege?" She shot back. This time, it was Helion who looked like he had been slapped. He swallowed, silent now. Almost as if he had been caught in a problem he never fathomed.

"Or at least have the balls to tell me how long you've had spies there?" She jeered, her voice far more venomous than it's ever been. Helion scuffed at her, regaining his spiteful mask.

"Just like everybody else, I have spies in every co-"

"Right," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Helion pursed his lips.

"This is pointless," Helion declared finally. He walked away from the table, turning his back on the both of them. "I have better things to attend to." Eva's hands turned into tight balls.

"Yeah, like what? Tanning your legs?" Helion halted. He didn't turn around when he responded.

"No. Calanmai is tonight," Helion said, clipping each word slowly. "Don't worry, Drusilla will give you a tour so you don't get lost."

"And who might Drusilla be?" Eva asked flatly. He turned his head over his shoulder, a mocking smirk spread across his face.

"My daughter," he said silkily. Before Eva could hide the bewilderment that flashed across her face, he winnowed away.

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **Mmmm….I'm not sure if all of this makes sense. But I was rereading ACOMAF and I was so intrigued by Helion and the Lady of Autumn. And especially Eris, who seemed to have a backstory that would never be told. SO, if you do like this, please comment. I'm not going to continue if theres no comments because I'll assume nobody wants to read it (and because it makes my day :] )**


	2. Chapter 2

Eris's eyes were as round as saucers when the High Lord of Day winnowed away. Clearly, the prick didn't even have the decency to treat him and his mother with respect. They were, after all, the Autumn Court royal family who had vital duties. Helion, on the other hand, was just some stupid High Lord who sparkled.

"Did…did he just…?" Eris was struggling for words. He looked at his mother and his face flushed.

His mother had reached into the air, her face filled with confusion and awe and longing for him to come back and it only forced Eris to feel even more uncomfortable than he already was. Eris had never seen so much emotion in his mother's face, so many feelings. And he had a lingering feeling _why_. He didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to even think about her secrets. But they were still there, causing a divide between them.

"Mother," Eris said, his voice rasp from Helion's magic. She turned to him sharply, blinking as if she had forgotten he was even there. "We have to find a way to go home. Father is in trouble and-" But then a girl walked into the doorway. She was petite with a flowy golden dress that contrasted brightly against her dark skin. Her hair was black and curly but there was various golden strands that stuck out awkwardly, making his eyes linger on her longer than needed. On a normal day, Eris might have described her as beautiful, but he had more vital things to worry about.

"Hello," she said, her voice light as a feather. Eris blinked at her twice before stepping forward. His body angled in front of his mother. The girl didn't look lethal, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"He sent _you_ to accompany us home?" Eris sneered violently, looking at her petite body. "We need reinforcements, not some little girl. Do something useful and go find him!" The girl didn't even blink at him. A small smile was on her face. Sweet, innocent. Not the kind of smile someone finds at the estate of a High Lord.

"He isn't sending you reinforcements," the girl responded gently. Eris's eyes widened, his lips curling up angrily.

"What do you mean he's not giving us reinforcements? We're the royal family of the Autumn Court. Has he lost his mind? He's lucky we're even stepping into this dump." But her sweet smile didn't even falter.

"I'm here to show you around the castle," She informed him, looking at him with one more gaze before turning her back against them. "If you would follow me." She began walking away from the both of them, Eris gaping stupidly. His mother though had regained her composure, beginning to walk behind the girl obediently. Scrambling, Eris began walking as well but he walked with a swagger that showed his title.

"Who the hell are you anyways?" Eris demanded. The girl didn't look back at him when she responded.

"Drusilla," she answered. "The High Lord's daughter." He rolled his eyes. But he couldn't help but notice how his mom stiffened at his side. There was an electric-like wave that flooded around him as well. Helion having a child? It wasn't likely.

"What are you? Some unwanted orphan he bought off the streets? Some bastard girl he's embarrassed about? Collateral damage?" Eris snarled. His mother didn't even look at him when he said the unneeded insults words. Instead, she walked quietly, her eyes hard on the girl. Like she was trying to find something she hadn't quite found.

"No. He had a relationship with my mom a few years before Amarantha captured him," Drusilla answered civilly. "He didn't want to recognize my birth until after things settled down." Eris snorted through his nose.

"And where's your mother now? Serving in his bed chamber I'm guessing?"  
"Dead," Drusilla said, stopping short and shooting him an even look. "She's dead." He was quiet for a moment, stumped by the girl's casualness. He didn't expect her to be so blunt.

"That doesn't change the fact that we have to go home," Eris responded coldly. This time, the girl stopped fully. She turned around, her face now filled with dangerous impatience.

"He's not sending you home, Eris," Drusilla responded dully. "But if you want a room, there it is. I would advise you take it because that's the only place he'll look for you." She motioned to the open door next to her. It was different than the room he woke up in. Larger, more furniture. He looked at it briefly, then back at her.

"I will wait for his response then," he insisted. "But I will not wait forever so he better hurry up." And as she walked away, already rambling to his mother about her own room, he walked into the new bedroom. He eyed the king-sized bed and the grand dresser. The blankets were made out of the same type of cloth his parents' bed was – silk but fluffy. The windows overlooked the horizon and his room had its own sitting area. There was a table carved out of jade that was toppled with various snacks and drinks that would keep him occupied until the High Lord came back.

In other words, it was _okay_.

Grudgingly, he took one of the drinks that was resting on the table. He glanced at the label uneasily. Papaya juice.

"What the fuck is papaya juice?" He said aloud. But he brought to his lips, cringing as the bitter yet sweet drink went down his throat. He thrusted the bottle down as he blanched. It shattered loudly, splashing against the floor.

"That was…" But then his eyes began to get droopy. He was tired, so very tired. And the headache that had been pounding in his head suddenly began to ease away. He sat on the bed, letting out a calm breath. For the first time in years, he felt calm. The paranoia that somebody would murder him in his sleep suddenly wasn't there, the feeling of nightmares didn't seem to come. Instead, all he see was a beautiful stream of gold that was shooting through the windows and without a minute's notice, he was asleep.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Eva couldn't stop looking at her. At her dark skin, her golden-black hair, her amber eyes. Despite sharing a parent, she didn't share a single thing with Lucien. Even after the girl, Drusilla, took her to Eva's new room, she watched Drusilla walk away. Eva found herself slumping on the bed, listening to Drusilla's heels click away at a distance. It wasn't until it was completely quiet did she finally look around the new room.

It was twice as big as Beron's room, with a fireplace burning with golden fire, the flames larger than her own body. Her eyes lingered at the honey-colored hard-wood floors and the crème colored walls. The dresser was made out of yellow gold and the table that overflowed with various foods resembled a white pearly color. White-gold, she remembered. Helion was always marveled by white gold. It was a contradiction, he would tell her. White was supposed to blend in, to not stand out. But any kind of gold would always catch attention.

She walked over to the table quietly, eyeing the beautiful fruits and the strawberry tarts. There were three different types of juices to choose from and the bread was baked until it was golden. Though she was tempted to eat it, she couldn't. Eating it, indulging in the Day Court, is a betrayal. Like her son, she had to start thinking rationally. She had to get out of there, to find her family.

But then her head turned to the door. Helion was leaning against the doorway, eyeing her seriously. Worriedly. She was quiet, her mouth ajar.

"Calanmai is in a few hours," he said aloud. Her face tightened. She stood up on her feet, her back straightening.

"Another reason why you need to send us home," she growled. "You promised me, Helion. You promised that you would leave me be, no matter the circumstance. No matter…" But his eyes were scrolling all over her again, looking at every detail.

"What are you even looking for?" She snarled at him. He blinked and met her eyes again. He didn't even skip a beat before responding.

"Injuries," Helion said quietly. "You have bruises on your wrists. I would be happy to-"

"I don't need a healer," she snapped. "I need to go home. My son needs to go home." He held her gaze for a moment, quiet.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? Drusilla," He breathed. "I never thought I would want an heir but she…everything changed when she happened." And then she was the one to become quiet. Lucien echoed in the back of her mind when she thought of his words. Lucien, who should have grown up here.

"Beautiful," she agreed, though her voice was bitter. He didn't even blink at her. Just held her gaze softly, maybe even sadly.

"She likes you," he said uneasily. "She said she…sees something in you." Eva opened her mouth, about to retort with something but then she stopped. She couldn't speak. All she could do was hold his gaze, his powerful gaze. But then he walked to the table, grabbing an empty cup and pouring a dark orange liquid. When she didn't say anything, he brought it to her. She took it in her hands.

"What is it?" She asked. He began to walk towards the doorway but before leaving the room, he gave her a playful smirk.

"Papaya juice."

When Eris finally awoke, it was night. He jumped out of bed anxiously, drops of sweat pouring down him. His eyes jotted to outside, looking at the raving party from the windows. Calanmai, he remembered. He then glanced down at the splattered drink on the floor, his eyes widening.

"That son of a bitch," He growled. He put on his shoes quickly. Before opening the door, he noticed a golden tunic made out of fine material hanging on the dresser. He hesitated for a moment. But then he shook his head – he wouldn't bend his knee to the Day Court.

Surprisingly, it didn't take long to make it outside. The rave was large, overwhelming. There were hanging, sparkly globes of various colors and people laughing, dancing. There were little kids running around, young adults mingling. Every court performed Calanmai differently, he remembered. But Calanmai here was more…free. Welcoming. It was almost tempting. But he caught sight of Drusilla and suddenly a fire tore through him. She was off at a distance, talking to a few higher fae. They were good looking, obviously of high families. But when Eris reached her, he grabbed her by the elbow roughly. She yelped but when the crowd of boys took a step towards him, she put out her hand. Hesitantly, they backed away.

"Yes, Eris?" She asked impatiently, yanking her elbow back. He realized, as he stared at her, that his hands were shaking.

"You drugged me," he snarled. "You drugged me!" She sipped the drink that she had in her hand casually and he finally looked at her. She was pretty, gorgeous even. She was wearing a blood-red dress that held a golden shimmer. Her hair, a mix of black and gold curls, shined brightly under the full moon. She was smirking.

"So?" She asked back. Though he was steaming with anger, it wasn't the answer he expected. He blinked rapidly.

"I am the future High Lord of-" But she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"It is Calanmai," she reminded him. "Don't you ever know how to have fun?" His nose flared.

"I am not here to have fun," he said back. "I'm not here to celebrate at your pathetic parties and drink your bitter papaya juice. I'm here to get my court back." And then Drusilla held his gaze for a moment, her eyebrows elevating up. There was something close to pity on her face, maybe even sadness. And then she smiled.

"Come on," she said, grasping his hand, "I want to show you something." Before he could object, she started pulling him between the tight crowd, her hand firmly in his. His mouth opened.

"You-No. You can't just – Where are you even…" But then his words stopped. They had made it to a different part of the party – quieter, more personal. There were still the same amount of people but yet, it was calmer. People were slow dancing, speaking closely. Holding each other, _loving_ each other. Drusilla let go of his hand, walking towards a golden bonfire that spit out silver sparks. He felt his feet follow her.

"This is where people go if they find their mate," Drusilla said, her voice soft. "Calanmai is so powerful that sometimes people will just find their bodies wandering over here, not knowing until they meet eyes with another person that they were simply being called over here to meet their mate. It's…it's beautiful." And then Eris saw it at a distance. Two people, who clearly didn't know each other, was approaching each other carefully. They stopped about a foot apart, breathless as they looked each other over. He saw the boy, whose hands were shaking, touch her cheek. There were smiles – smiles he had rarely seen, shining on their faces.

"So what? They're peasants. Who cares?" He spat. But her amber eyes were marveled.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She asked. "Finding your other half…" Eris's eyes narrowed on her.

"I guess if you have nothing better in your life," he said, but even when he said it out loud his stomach ached. Maybe it was the moon, maybe it was the atmosphere, but something stirred in him. And when it did so, her eyes flickered at him.

"I had one," Drusilla admitted, her voice quiet. "He died. I would do anything to have him again." Eris looked at her up and down, seeing the tears now fogging into her eyes. First, her mother was dead, and then her mate?

"When he died, I felt like I was dying," Drusilla choked. "I felt like I lost a part of me I would never get back."

"Why are you telling me this?" He demanded suddenly. "No offense, but your sad story is irrelevant right now. I need to go home." But when she met his eyes again, she was intense.

"Because…" her voice lingered. "I just thought you'd like to see her." Eris's face twisted.

"What are you talking about?" He said, his voice louder now. A couple turned to them suddenly. "If I had a mate, don't you think she'd be here with me?"

"Look," she whispered, pointing to the nearest bonfire fire. He scowled at her but then he looked at it and he caught his breath. A face, a beautiful face was burning in the flames. Slowly, like a wounded animal, he felt his body walking towards it. Once he was in distance though, the image in the flames flickered away. All he saw was gold flames now.

"Did you see that?" he asked, his voice breathless as he looked at Drusilla. "Did you see that face?" But then tears were falling down her cheeks. She crossed her arms tightly, her eyes reflecting the golden blaze.

"I see a face," she said, choking. "I see Dario's face. I see him smiling. And this is the only time, only once a year that I get to see him again. Through these burning flames." But then he blinked. The face, wherever she was, disappeared. It was all in his head, he decided. It was just trickery of some sort. And even if it wasn't, why would he want to see her anyways?

"Well, congratulations on finding him again, but I am leaving. Unlike you, I don't plan on spending my afternoon wallowing over somebody…" And then his voice choked. Slowly, with a wince, he looked back into the golden flames. This time, he tried searching for the beautiful face even harder yet he still saw nothing. But he did feel something lingering, a familiar string tugging in his stomach.

"I am sorry if I was rude about bringing you over here," Drusilla said quietly. "I just thought, since you aren't in the Autumn Court, that you'd want to see her. I was just trying to do you a favor." His eyes narrowed on her.

"Who says I even have a mate?" He sneered, his voice meaning to be sharp but it came out limply. She inhaled raggedly.

"I am an empath," she said, tilting her head. "I feel it, Eris. I feel what's going on inside you. I could feel your string the moment you looked around at the party. You've had such a hard time here…I wanted to do something good for you." His mouth dried up. An empath? Helion's daughter was an _empath_? And then he looked at the golden flames, his eyes widening.

"You're the reason I saw her," he whispered, his voice filled with disgust. "You know how to do fire magic." But nothing changed on her face. She truly thought he was doing him a favor, he realized.

"Save your energy," he murmured to her. "Just because you have a mate doesn't mean you give a damn. I am the future High Lord. I don't have time for such childishness." He expected her to grow offensive, to lash back, but she didn't. She was calm. Concerned, even.

"You don't like it? Having a mate?" She asked, a shock ringing in her voice. "You don't ever celebrate Calanmai with her? You don't want to see her now?" He swallowed.

"It's complicated," he let out. "Far more complicated than someone like you will ever understand." This time, he actually turned on his heel. He was a few feet away but she caught his fingers. His palms were sweating when she caught hold of them.

"Try me," she said. He looked at her coolly and she had wiped the tears from her face. There was something desperate in her eyes, something begging. "Did she die, like mine? Did she…disappear?" His face softened. A voice told him to deny it, to persist in his lie, but…the moon was shining and the mates around him were laughing and he couldn't help but feel it. He couldn't help but feel that tug, feel the story arise from the deepest of his secrets.

"I can't have her," he responded, clearing his throat. They lingered towards the fire again. "I knew her but I let her go. It's not something…it's not a story I'm willing to tell." But her eyes were spinning with curiosity.

"She refused to accept the mating ceremony?" She guessed, her voice empty. "Why?" He shook his head lightly. He even let out a dark chuckle.

"I don't care," he reiterated. "I don't…" But then he stopped. His eyes lingered to the fire, an inner desire pulling him. He wanted to see her again, to see her face, to hear her laugh. Tonight, at least. Tonight, of all nights, that was supposed to be their's. He wanted to see her. "Show me her again…show me…show me her face again. _Please_." And he had never said that word. _Please_. But tonight, a part of him craved her. Was desperate to see her. For the first time in five hundred years, he wanted to see her.

"I will if you tell me the story," she whispered. He scowled but then he felt it in his chest. An aching. He looked up at the moon, the shining moon. Somewhere, someplace, maybe she was wondering about that string as well. Wondering where it came from, who it ended with. And maybe it was because of Calanmai, but he wanted to see his mate. One last time, at least. Without the tension, without the hatred. Just to see her smile. It was Calanmai. Didn't he deserve that?

"It's a long story," he warned her, "And it doesn't start with me." She nodded curtly at him.

"I still want to hear it," she said, her voice cracking. And so he turned to the fire, looking at the flickers. He could see her again – her face, laughing. He couldn't tell where she was, but he thrived to be there. To see her. He couldn't look away.

"I had this one brother…Kegan. I was the oldest but because I was heir to throne, and everybody knew that _I_ would have the throne in the end, he was married off first," Eris began emptily, the gold flames reflecting off his eyes. He could feel Drusilla watching him closely. "Which was whatever. He got married to some high-class girl in our court on his fifteenth birthday. She was okay, I guess. Moderately pretty, she blended easily. But I think he loved her the moment he saw her. Like, _actually_ loved her. That was the first time I…I think I ever actually saw someone in love. They were so excited that they even agreed to do their bedding ceremony the night of their wedding in front of every lord of the Autumn Court. And that changed everything." His words stopped for a moment, his mouth drying up. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Drusilla's eyebrows go down in puzzlement.

"And so a bedding ceremony is evil?" She mused. But then he swallowed.

" _Listen_ ," he said sharply. And then he took a deep breath and continued, "They were friends but it wasn't until their bedding ceremony in front of fifty people did they feel...the string. Mates, of all things. They loved each other but who knew they would actually be _mates_. And they found out in front of all of the lords of the Autumn Court," Eris let out a dark chuckle, his eyes darkening as he said it. "The story spread across our kingdom like a wildfire. By the next day, everybody knew. They were the iconic couple of the century and even I…even I wanted what they had. My father didn't favor it much because he said it brought unnecessary attention to his son but he let Kegan have his happiness. And fuck was Kegan happy. I didn't see why everybody was so obsessive and then…" He paused for a moment, unsure if he could even let the words out. But he promised her an answer so he would give it.

"And then two weeks later, I saw _my_ mate. Right after I was able to witness my brother possess the most sacred relationship, I found that I would have one as well. For once, my life was perfect. I would have everything – love, power, fame. She didn't know me but it didn't matter because I knew _her_. I could have told her right then, but…I was too arrogant. Our relations were strained so I begged my father, I begged him on my knees the night before Calanmai that he propose an arranged marriage with her father. After a moment of quietness, he told me he would do it. He would propose the marriage. It wouldn't be too difficult – it might even benefit the Autumn Court." At the end, his voice was bitter, untouched anger that was yet to die.

"Of course, after that, I spent majority of Calanmai obsessing over my potential marriage. Nobody but my father knew so I swallowed my newfound secret because of the day of harvest wasn't about my love, it was about his. See, Calanmai is different in each court. In the Autumn Court, my father and his lover, _my mother_ that is, would have sex in front of the public. I guess it's supposed to be symbolism or something but anyways, my father gets up in front of countless people and names his lover, presumably my mother, and they bang in front of five hundred people. So he got up there, with my mother in a silk robe, but then he…he looks at me. And at that moment, I knew something was wrong. He had never looked at me like that. So pointedly. And then he doesn't say my mother's name. He says my brother's wife's name." Drusilla let out a gurgled sound and put her hand to her mouth.

"That's…" Drusilla's voice trailed. Eris's eyes intensified against the flames, his nostrils flared.

"And so he made that girl, that poor girl, of only fifteen years old, ride him in front of everybody. In front of my mother, in front of her family, in front of my brother…" Drusilla didn't speak at first but then she shook her head sharply.

"But that's not fair," Drusilla objected. "It wasn't her fault. He _forced_ her." But Eris shook his head, closing his eyes as he did so.

"It was still adultery," Eris countered. "And the royal family couldn't tolerate such embarrassment. So she was banished. An annulment was signed before morning hit. And then she was gone. My brother never spoke about her again but…it changed him." Drusilla was quiet for a moment, and Eris's face had tightened.

"Why?" Drusilla breathed. "Who would ever do something so horrible to ruin such a beautiful love story?"

"Because of me," Eris said, and he had never said it out loud before. Not those words – not the truth of the horrific events. "He did it because of _me_." The puzzlement of Drusilla's face had turned into complete confusion. And Eris realized, while his body tightened, he had to finish his story. He had to explain.

"The night I went on my knees was the night before he ruined everything," Eris reminded her, his teeth clenched. "The night I begged him to let me know her, to let her come to our court, was the night before he fucked my brother's wife. And even though my siblings thought it was a power play, I knew why he did it. He did it because of me. He showed me how disposable women were in his court, and how he would have nothing of it. He wanted to terrify me. It was a threat, if anything. He could let his son have a few minutes of fame, but his successor? Of course not. It would infuriate him. And he proved to me that he would do anything to destroy it." Drusilla's mouth was ajar.

"And as for my mate…well, her family decided to send her early," Eris whispered, his hands turning into heated balls, "I was the one to find her. I was hunting in the woods, only a week after my father's demonstration, and there she was…laying in the middle of a forest, with a note nailed to her stomach." And then Drusilla's eyes widened. She stepped back – just an inch.

"Wait, are you talking about the Morrigan?" She gasped, and he winced when she said that. "She's your mate? Does she even…" But then her words stopped, and a looming horror filled her face. "You left her. You left her in the woods to die. I remember this. I didn't know it was you." Eris's jaw clenched. He closed his eyes tightly.

"I didn't know what to do. I didn't care why she was there – she could've fucked the entire Night Court and I wouldn't have cared. All I knew is that she was there, naked, shriveled on the ground, crying for somebody to help her. Begging _me_ , of all people. And all I could think about is what my father was capable of doing to her. What he could do to that beautiful girl who just wanted to be safe. I knew that as soon as I let her into that court, she would be his. Not mine, _his_. And even if I gave her a bath and a pretty dress and made her smile, it didn't matter. My father wouldn't have banned her like he did the other girl – no, he wouldn't dare do that to his future successor's mate. He would just make her life hell slowly and spitefully and I couldn't see her like that again. Not again," Eris said, his voice cracking. "So, _yes_ , I left her there." At first Drusilla was quiet, too quiet, and then she scoffed.

"So you just left her there to die?" She asked quietly, her voice venomous. "You think that's better than just-" He whipped his head towards her sharply, his back straightening.

"I did everything I could to make her survive. I knew her bastard friend had spies looming in our estate. I tried tipping them off. It wasn't my fault he took so long. And even when he did come, I made sure the path was easy. I made sure that getting her out wasn't fucking impossible," Eris snarled fast. But Drusilla's eyes didn't change. There was no mercy when she looked at him.

"There is always another way," Drusilla spat back. Eris held her glare for a moment, but then he let out a deep breath.

"I know," his voice cracked, a pang piercing his gut. "You don't think I thought about that? That I didn't go to sleep every single fucking night thinking how I tortured my own mate because I was weak prick? Even now, I still have nightmares of her dying in front of me. Or worse – my father torturing her, raping her, ruining her life. _But_ _I was young_ , Drusilla. I wouldn't have been able to control him. When I grew older, and I learned how to manipulate my way in court, I planned on reaching out. Seeing her once again. Surely, after a few centuries, things could change. There was a ball coming up where a number of Night Court members would be attending. I didn't have a fucking plan. But maybe, if she would just see me across the hall, or if she just did one dance with me, she would feel the string and learn to forgive me." Drusilla's face tightened.

"And what happened to that?" She snapped.

"Lucien happened," Eris continued darkly. "Give or take a few centuries since the Morrigan ordeal and my youngest brother, that fucking imbecile, fell in love with a lesser girl. Not too big of a deal though, right? He was the youngest, surely nobody would care. Except my father did. He slaughtered her. He killed her. And he made Lucien watch." And then Drusilla had stepped away from him – just enough to show her disgust.

"And you didn't do a single thing about it? You didn't even try-"

"There was nothing I could do," Eris snapped. "Not a damn thing. Not unless I wanted to be slaughtered too – and he would do it. Even if I was stronger than the rest of his sons, I was still replaceable. The only mercy I could give was to let Lucien live after my stupid brothers tried hunting him down like banshees." Eris's eyes went back to the golden flames.

"And that's when I decided that I wanted her as far away from the Autumn Court as possible," Eris seethed. "I don't want her there. It doesn't matter if I have to make my mate hate me until we are both ashes, she will never set foot in the Autumn Court. Even if my father dies, even if I am High Lord, she won't ever get past those borders. Because nobody is safe in the Autumn Court. Not even me." And then he saw her again, laughing in the golden flames. She was more vibrant now, in more detail. Maybe it was because he was looking for her now, actually craving her, but he could see her full body. She was wearing a short dress that was chopped unevenly at her thighs, covered in dazzling sparkles. It looked like she was dancing with someone, but he couldn't see anything past her body. And then he felt the tug in his stomach. Her smile didn't go away but…something changed on her face. Like she had felt something too, something she had felt a million times but could never figure out where the tugging came from.

Eris sat on the ground, bringing his knees to his chest. He wasn't planning on leaving until the golden fire burned out.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Eva woke up panting. She looked around dizzily, at first lost on where she was entirely but then she looked at the window. There were golden sparkles dancing in the air and below them was a lively party. _The Day Court_ , she remembered. She got up on her feet, her eyes about to leave the window but then she spotted her son. He was being pulled through the dancing area, wearing the same dirty clothes he had come in. Yet, on her dresser, she saw a beautiful dress. It was green yet it sparkled brightly. It flowed out past her knees and had a halter top, showing off her breasts but was still classy.

Hesitantly, looking at the blood in her cotton robe, she changed into the dress. Even in the hallway, she could hear the raving from outside. A part of her told her to go to the party and find her son, but she looked at the various rooms behind her. There was only one door open and that door was the room beside her own. Carefully, with extreme quietness, she walked to the doorway and when she saw the figure looking out the window, she swallowed. He was gold and sparkly and alluring. But then he turned around and looked at her, his deep eyes reflecting something she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't bite," he said, stretching a smile. Yet, there was a sadness in his eyes. Carefully, she walked into the bedroom.

"It's identical to the room you gave me," she murmured. He looked around as well, eyeing all of the things she was looking at. He nodded.

"I thought you deserved something beautiful," he said softly. "But please, close the door behind you." She walked in obediently, shutting the door silently. And then when she looked back at him, he was motioning her to come towards him.

"Helion, I shouldn't-"

"Come to the balcony," he said. No – he was begging. "You should see the party." So she did. They both went out, looking over the countless people. They were far happier than any group of people in the Autumn Court. Safe, exhilarated. She let herself marvel at the scene, take in the beauty of the Day Court.

"Why aren't you down there?" She asked, nodding towards the people. He was quiet for a moment, pursing his lips.

"I did for a little while but every year I find myself up here…because watching _this_ is every High Lord's dream. I'd much rather be up here, watching my people fall in love," Helion admitted brightly. She watched as his amber eyes glazed over the large crowd, a happiness she had never seen passing through his face.

"What about the ceremony?" She asked. He shrugged lazily.

"I've done the ceremony long enough to realize that it doesn't really work in my court," he admitted. "Well, my participation at least." She nodded understandably. But then his eyebrows perked up.

"Why? Would you rather be celebrating in the Autumn Court?" It didn't come out venomous. Pure curiosity.

"No," she said lowly, "I would rather not." And then they allowed the silence to come between them as they watched the scene outside. It wasn't awkward nor tense, as they were both were mesmerized by the party. Both of them were happy to watch.

"Why did you bring me here?" Eva asked lightly. "Why didn't you just shoo those men away and leave me at the estate?" His mouth opened and then closed. He took a deep breath.

"Because I thought you were dead," he said honestly. "And by the time I realized you were alive, I couldn't let go. Not this time, at least." And then a memory flashed in her mind, a memory she'd rather not remember. But her lips pursed.

"That again?" She asked sharply. "Helion, that was years ago-" But then he swung towards her, his eyes glistening darkly.

"Yes, it was, but when I think of Amarantha, that's what I remember," Helion persisted, his voice cold. "Did you know, after everyone realized that Amarantha had spiked our drinks and chaos erupted, I didn't even comprehend what was happening? I was the last High Lord to digest what was going on. I didn't even know it was her who was causing the chaos, I just saw magic burst towards you and I just…" His voice lingered away. She had remembered it brightly. When they were at the party that caused them to be locked up for forty-nine years, and everybody suddenly realized what was going on, Amarantha used that time of shock to destroy half of the ball room. Amarantha had pointed her magic at her and Eva had frozen on the spot – could only watch in slow motion that the magic was about to hit her. Her husband had ducked away but right when the magic was about to hit her, a body dove in front of her. She realized, as Helion dropped to the ground, he had taken the shot. Amarantha was already in a different direction, torturing someone else, but Eva remembered kneeling down next to Helion. His eyes were open but he was barely alive. Her hands were shaking when she knelt by his side, whimpering for him to breathe. And saying, under her breath, that she still loved him. Obviously, he survived the impact and by the time Amarantha had explained to everybody that they would be held hostage, Beron had dragged her off the ground.

"I tried looking for you, you know," Helion said, choking. "When Tamlin killed Amarantha and we were free, I tried looking for you in the crowd. If forty-nine years taught me anything it was that life was too damn short." And Eva didn't know what to say to this. Right after Beron gave his droplet of magic, he demanded that his entire family winnow away immediately. Helion would haven't have time to even speak to her, let alone convince her to leave with him.

His hand had gone to her cheek though, stroking it. She was frozen, incapable of even breathing.

"Helion, we can't do this ag-"

"I lied," Helion said suddenly. Something had shifted when he heard her objections, something cold. "I lied, Eva." She blinked at him.

"Lied?" She asked back. "Lied about what?" His jaw clenched.

"That I'm up here because I want to see the party," he admitted stiffly. "But honestly? It's because every damn year I'm shagging some girl-"

"Helion, don't you-"

"And I think of you while I'm doing it," he spat. His eyes were burning, burning like amber fires. "Every single damn year. Because…because that's who I _should_ be with during Calanmai. You." She scoffed at this.

" _Should_ be with?" She heard herself snarl back. "What about Beron? What about my kids? What, you think you could've just whisked me away? Do you really not care about my duties? The consequences?" But nothing had changed on his face. Usually, at this point, he would've walked away, but he held her glare.

"No," he sneered, his voice thin as ice. Her face burned. "I don't care. I don't care about your damn husband or your sociopathic children, Eva. I don't care about your family obligations or your fucking duties. _I don't care_. And I'm not going to stop, Eva. I'm never going to stop-"

"Helion-"

"Because I love you too much," Helion said, stepping towards her again. "And I'm not going to apologize for that. I'm not afraid to be honest, Eva, I'm not afraid of you-"

"Your words aren't going to-"

"You wanna know a secret, Eva?" And his voice was sharp. She flinched back, blinking. He noticed it as his face softened for just a moment. "At that meeting, when I saw you as lifeless as a doll, I almost bursted into sunlight, destroying that entire room. When I saw your eyes go round when Feyre apologized to you because you were so used to being dehumanized that you were surprised that she would say sorry, bundles of hot light balled up in my hands. And when I had finally had enough, finally decided that I didn't care about our deal, Feyre attacked your stupid husband before I could." Eva was quiet. Her teeth were jittering.

"We could have had everything," Helion said with a mirthless chuckle. "Everything, Eva. I would've given you this entire fucking world. And through the years, I accepted your decision, but I can't help that I think of you during Calanmai. We were supposed to be together." She took in a sharp breath, straightening.

"If I could leave Beron, I would have. But when I found out I was pregnant-" He shook his head at her. It wasn't until Lucien was a year old did Helion get word that she had a child. He tried talking to her but it wasn't something that they could compromise. It was too late.

"What, you think I would just turn you away? I don't give a damn if Lucien was his kid," Helion let out. "You think a child would stop me from loving you? I'd take you both in. I'd-"

"No you wouldn't," Eva finally said. Her hands were in tight balls. He huffed at her.

"How would you know? You didn't ever-"

"Because you told me you never wanted a child!" Eva's voice rose. All the years of anger, all the years of hiding her feelings, were finally coming up to the surface. Helion rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I didn't want a _pure-blooded heir_ , but Lucien would have passed as mine. I would just claim him as illegitimate for the throne. I would have raised him as my own and nobody would doubt it. For cauldron's sake, his own damn name means-" And then stopped. His face turned whiter than she had ever seen as his eyes widened. He stepped back, stepping away from her. She shrunk down.

"Light," he whispered. "His name means _light._ " She shook her head weakly.

"He was Beron's," she insisted, but her voice broke. Either way, it didn't seem like he heard her. He took another step back, grasping the balcony. She knew, at this point, there was no way to convince him.

"He has my smile. My body built. He's tan. Tanner than both you and Beron," Helion whispered. "How could I be so _foolish_." He looked like he was going to puke.

"He was mine," Helion breathed. "Why did you ever…why didn't you…"

"It's too late for that now," Eva said, her voice sharp. "This doesn't change anything." Helion finally looked at her, meeting her eyes. They were so intense, so lively.

"You truthfully thought I would turn him away?" He asked softly. It was so much, hearing his soft voice rather than be yelled at it. It would be easier, she realized, to hear his rejection rather than hear the pain in his voice. "Eva, he's my kid. And even after he was banished from the Autumn Court you still didn't think-" He inhaled deeply.

"You're right, Eva," he said flatly. "It is too late. It's too late to raise him. But it's not too late to welcome him as my son." Eva's eyes widened. She shook her head fast.

"He doesn't know. He knows nothing of it, Helion," she said desperately. The relief on his face, the brief sign of happiness, had disappeared.

"That's not your choice anymore," he said, his voice cold. He turned away from her, walking away from the balcony, but then she caught his hand. He didn't look at her but he stopped, letting her hand fold into his.

"He's finally happy," she said, her voice a whisper. "My son, my favorite son, is finally happy. My good son. The only good one out of all of them. I don't want him to…to hate me." And then Helion turned around, facing her. He closed in the gap between them. His eyes were running down her once again, glistening as they did so.

"Don't we deserve to be happy too?" He murmured, his eyes filled with wonder. "We can…we will work this out. We will find a way." And then somehow, their lips met. First softly, relishing their first touch, and then hungrily as he pushed her against the balcony, her back to the crowd. He pulled away from her, just an inch.

"Let's do it," he whispered, his lips to her ear. "The ceremony." Her heart was pounding. She could feel his body grow warmer against hers as the noise from the crowd began to grow louder. Yet, even though she knew the eyes were watching them, she couldn't look away. Not from those amber eyes.

"Right here? On a _balcony_? In front of all of them?" She asked hoarsely. "I'm the Lady of Autumn. If I perform the ceremony, especially in front of your entire court, I…" But then her voice stopped. It wasn't her heart she was feeling, she realized. It was his. It was his heart, pounding against her chest. His body, grasping her, wanting her. And she knew it wasn't just a show. It was because he was hers and she was his. It was because this is what she always dreamed. Not to spend Calanmai with Beron of all people, but with someone she loved. Someone who actually physically craved her.

"Not tonight," he said, his hand going up her thigh. Her dress was beginning to shiver up. She could no longer feel the eyes watching her, despite the lingering crowd. Instead, all she could think about was his touch, his voice. "Tonight, you're the Lady of Day."

~*~ Discidium ~*~ 

**Wow. I didn't ever think I would finish that. I apologize that the first half of the chapter was a bit of a bore. But, look. I've had a rough few days. Give me some motivation. If you can bother reading fifteen pages, then you can bother to write a review ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

It was deadly silent between them. She, while normally straight as a line, buried herself into the back of her seat, avoiding Helion's dancing eyes as he smirked at her. This morning she had woken up in his bed. At first, she had laid there, thinking it was merely a dream as the bright light shined through his windows, but when what happened last night hit her, the beautiful room turned into a moment of horror. She had bolted right up, ripping away from Helion's arms and considering her lack of options. A beautiful dress was hanging in the wardrobe, presumably from a servant no doubt, so she had little excuse to go to her room. So finally, she had declared she was famished and used breakfast as an excuse to leave. Unfortunately, Helion insisted on joining her.

"I wanted to eat alone," Eva said coolly, picking at her plate. She didn't have much of an apetite. "You do know that, don't you?" His smirked, if even possible, seemed to strengthen. He had chosen to sit next to her, not across from her, but she couldn't help but glance at him continuously.

"Oh, of course I know," Helion replied, his eyes shining so brightly that they looked like the sun. "But where would the fun be in that?" Her eyes narrowed on him, stingingly cold. But even she had to admit that there was a spark in her that she hadn't felt in centuries.

"We can't do this," Eva continued, as if he hadn't even spoke. "We can't do this…" And she looked at him up and down, trying to find a word to describe what they had between them but inevitably failed.

"Why not?" Helion replied. "Beron is gone. Who cares if he doesn't come back?" But as he said it, casually and without a care in the world, she felt his eyes examine her. Trying to read her emotions. As if, in his own way, he was trying to figure out if she felt the same for him that he did for her. Or if she did in fact care if Beron was gone and last night was just a moment of weakness.

"This isn't a game," Eva said, her voice flat. "He will come back. He will win." And then his eyes deepened, something flashing behind his eyes. As if he was looking a thousand miles away as his met her's.

"I counted the scars on you last night. I counted the bruises and the recovered broken bones and the places you refused to let me touch," Helion said quietly. "For years, I told myself that it didn't bother me because it was your choice to stay with him. But now I can't look away, Eva. I'll never be able to look away from what he has done to you." And his words hung in the air for a moment and she didn't know how to reply. Because he knew that it meant everything to her. He knew that simply caring, seeing, was all she ever wanted.

"In the end, he'll demand for you to give me back," was all she said, "And you'll do it. Even if I beg you on my knees, you'll do it. Because you have to." Helion reached for her hand impulsively but then the double doors opened with a brush of air and Eva jolted back. She let out a breath of air as Eris walked into the dining hall.

He looked like hell. He was wearing the same clothes he had last night, except coated with dirt and soot. His short red hair was ruffled with tangles and there was a leaf weaved into between hairs. His eyes were red and he had large bags hovering under his eyes. He eyed his mother pointedly. There was nothing – nothing that she could read.

She stood up quickly, reaching for her son.

"Eris, what are you-" But then he put up his hand, silencing her. For the first time, he didn't speak. He just closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Don't fright, Eva. He probably just lost his virginity for the first time and is still in shock," she heard Helion chortle. She shot towards Helion rapidly, her eyes as cold as a mother tiger. Though nothing changed on his face, she could've sworn he shrunk back a little.

"Funny, Helion, though I must say that that may be the last joke you ever make in front of the Autumn Court," Eris interrupted. He was still as stone, his eyes nailed on Helion with a look worse than death. "Because we're leaving today." Helion's smile shifted into a cruel smirk. A smirk that made a shiver run down Eva's spine.

"You're supposed to eat before you start declaring laughable requests from superior courts," Helion said, wavering towards the food. " _Sit_." Helion rose, leaving his seat open for Eris to take. Eris hesitated for a moment as he held Helion's gaze. Surely, Eris knew it was a power play but then his eyes dangled down to his mother, watching her fall back into her chair. There was something close to desperation on her face.

"I will," Eris snapped back, sitting next to his mother obediently. As he sat down, she saw him take her in and for the first time, and she wondered if he knew what she had done. She never thought about him, not once, as she performed the ceremony with Helion. And, suddenly, she felt disgusted with herself. Her last son, the only son she may ever have now, didn't even echo in her mind when she made that horrendously dangerous decision. Surely, he was furious. Surely, he probably hated her for doing such a treacherous activity. But yet, nothing close to anger was etched across his face. Eris was hot headed – if he knew, he would've said something. No, no, she saw him leave that party. He must have stayed there. And looking at the grime that covered his body, she had to assume that they never left.

"As I said before, Eris," Helion drawled, his voice suddenly bored, "It's not my job to send you back. If anything, I'm bound to keeping you here." Eva clutched the edge of the table as she felt her son heat up next to her. Helion eyed her hand warily and then looked back at her son with a look twice as fierce.

Eris let out a low laugh.

"Don't you understand?" Eris said coolly. "I could be the High Lord. My father might be dead. This isn't a game." And then Helion rolled his eyes dramatically, only amplifying the anger radiating off of Eris.

"Hopefully, then, the Cauldron had the wits to surpass you and give it to your brother," Helion said, far too casually. He looked at Eva, flashing her a seductive smile. Her eyes grew wider.

" _Lucien_?" Eris gargled. "You think my banished brother has a chance at being the High Lord of Au-"

"You're right," Helion said, his smile lengthening. "He'll be something much more than that." Eva opened her mouth, ready to interrupted, but then a whiff of air rolled into the room. She looked towards the doorway and instantly inhaled raggedly.

It was the High Lord of Night. And he stared down at the three of them like they were ants destined to be stomped on.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Hypocrisy at its finest," A new voice drawled. Helion and Eris jumped up at the same time, Eris with a butter knife in his hand and Helion with a sphere of light spinning in his palm. But when they met eyes with the intruder, both of their bodies slackened. Because neither of them, even together, had a fighting chance against the High Lord of Night.

It always stunned Eris how easily Rhysand walked into a room. His strut was so straight-laced, so smooth, it looked like he was walking on clouds. It was something about the way he tucked his hands in his pockets, how he always observed the room with slight interest, as if debating on whether he wanted to claim it as his own or turn it into black dust. And how he never, not once, even seemed mildly interested in anybody in the room. As if he had just accidentally ended up there, not a care in the world.

"Weren't you the one who mocked me for rescuing my beloved mate?" Rhysand chortled, his eyes still lingering amongst the room. "Actually – don't even answer. This room is far too stuffy for this drama. Ah, there you go." And within a second, a slight breeze was flowing through the room, causing Helion to stiffen in anger.

"Rhysand, what exactly are you doing here?" Helion asked, clipping each word sharply, and Eris nearly said the same thing. Helion had reflected Rhysand's small smile, an act that was simply a sign of defense.

"Why, you invited me, remember?" Rhysand said, a twinkle in his eye as he grabbed a plate and began to fill it. Eris noticed how his mother looked at Helion quickly. Before, her eyes were simply focused on her lap. "Though, I must admit, I wasn't expecting the Autumn Court to join us." And then eyes narrowed on the two of them coolly, mostly Eris. But before Eris could even reply, his eyes softened.

"And I sent a letter uninviting you," Helion added dryly, stepping towards him. When he stepped closer, Rhysand's eyes flickered at him. Daring him. Of course, Helion didn't oblige.

"I figured I'd give you a second chance," Rhysand said, his voice even dryer than Helion's. Before Helion could reply – and he was _certainly_ going to reply as his mouth opened with a snarl – Rhysand shot Eris a dangerous smirk. His eyes were glittering like the night stars. Nearly dancing. "Anyways, I wanted to congratulate _Eris_." And the way Rhysand said Eris's name, almost as if it was a threat itself, made Eris twitch. "I guess you didn't need my help after all, did you?" And then Eris felt his mom's piercing stare at him once again, her round eyes wide. Helion looked between Rhysand and Eris with a passable laugh but Eris could've sworn – could've sworn just a little bit, that Helion inched closer in the way between Rhysand and Eva.

"Please, Rhysand," Helion said impatiently, rolling his eyes as he did so, "We both know Beron isn't dead. If he was, I'd host a celebration and invite every court." But Helion's words didn't matter because right when Helion spoke, the entire room realized that Rhysand never believed Beron was dead anyways. Rhysand clearly had walked in with the knowledge that Beron wasn't dead. It was just a game. Because then Rhysand's eyes twinkled happily, victoriously even.

"That's fascinating saying as I heard you and your…" And then Rhysand's eyes lowered on Eva venomously, as if not exactly sure what to call her. " _Old friend_ had quite the performance last night." Immediately, Helion shifted straight in Rhysand's way. No more playing – no more bullshit.

"Stay professional or get out," Helion growled. But Eris shifted closer to the both of them, his head tilted in confusion.

"What performance?" Eris shrilled at Rhysand, and then his eyes shot towards his mother. "What…" And then he understood. He understood why her face had been so rosy when he walked in, why there was a light in her eyes that he had never seen. Why she had never bothered to find him last night, why the quietness had been so awkward. Why his mother had barely even looked at him but Helion had kept a smirk on his face.

Suddenly, he felt nauseated.

"You're fucking kidding me," Eris let out at the both of them. Usually, he would've been passive about the ordeal and then bursted later but these past two days have brought him over the edge. Rhysand sniggered. "You seduced my _mother_?" Eva stood up on her feet, her face tight as she opened her mouth but then Eris swiveled towards her. "You _cheated_ on Father?" For whatever reason, Helion snorted at those words.

"Eris," his mother pleaded softly. "It's very, very complica-" But then the two doors swung opened again and Eris's whole body stilled. A thousand miles away, he heard Helion curse.

She was stunning. Absolutely, unforgivably stunning. Her blonde hair in lush waves, her beautiful eyes looking like brown rubies, her skin looking as soft as a feather. She was wearing a black, silky jumpsuit that had a diving plunge and cape-like train that tickled the floor for several feet. Her heels were amber, as amber as Eris's eyes, and…and she didn't even look at him. She went past him like a breeze in the air, standing at Rhysand's side as she flashed Helion a small, yet forced, smile. But he noticed how her face had grown paler when she went past, how her arms had stiffened. And even as he tugged at that string, that small string between them, she didn't even turn his way. She felt nothing.

~*~ Disicidum ~*~

Eva was about to puke. It was foolish, she realized. It was foolish to live a dream. Dreams were for privileged High Lords – not for their wives. Because even though last night was possibly the best night of her entire life, even with a thousand eyes watching her, it backfired on her. She forgot how fast news could spread between courts, how information was like gold. She didn't care what anybody else said about the High Lord of Night. He wasn't evil, he wasn't treacherous, but he was passionate. Passionate, like Helion. And he would use anything he needed to maintain his power. To protect who, and what, he loved.

And Eris, her beautiful son, was still as a corpse.

"Hello, Mor," Helion purred, his eyes flashing. "It's nice to see you again." Morrigan – _Mor_ \- lifted her chin, glancing at Eva silently. Something unreadable flashed across her face.

"Yes, a beauty, isn't she?" Helion continued, not without flashing a flirtatious smirk as he glanced back at Eva. "You wouldn't be interested in being our third playmate, would you, Mor? Trust me, she's absolutely delicious. You'll love her once you see what she can do with her tongue." And while Helion looked Mor up and down, taking in her breathtaking beauty, the flirtation wasn't in his eyes. For whatever reason, he couldn't even fake it. He couldn't even pretend to want the angelic blonde. But still, Eva blushed heavily. He had never spoken about their lust, not aloud as a declaration, and it unnerved her. Especially as he used it as a weapon.

"Stop this ridiculousness," Eris snarled, Helion's words clearly getting under his skin. "My mother and I are going-"

"Your home is in shreds." Ah, she had wondered why Mor, the beautiful girl who looked like gold, faced them both. Eva knew of Eris's sins, had even lost sleep over the ordeal, and she had recognized the broken look in Mor's face when her son taunted her during the meeting. But now, something had transformed. Her eyes were gleaming. A smile, like a wolf's, was taking up her beautiful face. Clearly, as her words came out like a sharp knife, it was to boast.

And yet, Eris was quiet. So very quiet.

"That's none of your business," he said finally, holding her tight gaze. And Eva couldn't help but blink in surprise. Eris was vicious, cruel, and those words were possibly the nicest thing he had ever said to the girl. But Mor's smile still dropped, turning into a tight line.

"No matter," Mor said finally, pursing her lips. Eris's eyes flickered away. "I came here for Drusilla anyways. Helion?" Helion's face flattened as she said those words. Silently, he pointed towards the open doorway.

"Two lefts and three doors down," Helion muttered flatly. And as Mor walked away, her beautiful figure disappearing around a corner, Helion sighed tiredly. "I can never decide if their friendship is wonderful or absolutely terrifying." Rhysand let out a low chuckle.

"It's good," Rhysand lingered, "Up until Mor gets angry and takes down an entire building." And while he let out a laugh and Helion followed it with a stiff chuckle, Eva saw him tense up.

"It's too soon to make those jokes, don't you think?" Helion asked, a small smile on his face but a hint of seriousness on his tongue. And for a moment, just a moment, Rhysand looked like he understood. Like he agreed.

"Yes, the aftermath," Rhysand's voice dropped gravely. "We need to…" But then Rhysand's eyes narrowed on her. Cold at first, but then a hint of warmth. Helion caught Rhysand's eyes quickly though, his face hard.

"Where's your husband?" Rhysand let out bluntly. Eva jerked back, flinching at his harsh stare.

"I wouldn't know. I'm just-"

"His _wife_?" Rhysand finished with a low chuckle, taking another step. Even with a table between them, she had enough reason to be fearful. "Maybe I'm biased, but women aren't weak creatures. Even the ones who are covered in bruises and scars. They still hear things, know things. Things that their foolish husbands don't see." Eva's eyes lingered towards Eris. Eris was stiff as stone, his lips curled angrily, but he didn't say anything. He didn't dare let out a word.

" _You're biased_ ," Helion interrupted dryly. Rhysand's dark eyebrows elevated towards Helion, as if moderately impressed by his quick need to cut him off. An unusual amount of fury was finally shown across Helion's face. "Not every lady has the luxury to have power, to know of things in their court. Not all of them get crowns like yours did." And then Rhysand's eyes darkened. Eris grew closer to her protectively, but it didn't matter. This was Helion's fight. And Helion held his gaze tightly.

"And what about you, Helion?" Rhysand purred back, a cool smile growing on his face. "What happens if her husband never shows up again? And when warming your bed turns into something much more? Are you planning on giving her a crown?" Helion's snarl unraveled awkwardly, causing him to reflect a distorted look filled with only raw uncertainty. Eva had never really considered it. Who would she be in Helion's court? He wouldn't treat her like Beron had, no. He wouldn't shut her into palace, making sure her existence meant absolutely nothing. No, Helion loved her. But would he marry her? Would he see her as a partner, or just a lover who indulged in the luxuries of his court?

"He is to do no such thing," Eris growled, his hand tight against his mother's chair. "The Autumn Court prevails, Rhysand. It-" And then Eris was being whisked across the room, almost as if he was running backwards towards the large doors. Eris yelped and Eva stood up on her feet but when Eris left the room, with the doors closing after him, Rhysand finally turned back towards Eva and Helion. Eva's mouth was open in protest and Helion suddenly looked very, very tired. But Rhysand smiled.

"So, now may the adults talk?" Rhysand asked, flashing his pointed teeth.

~*~ discidium ~*~

He landed on his ass. It took him a few moments after the double doors slammed shut in front of him to even realize what had happened. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, banging his fists against the thick doors painfully.

"How dare you lock me out!" Eris roared. "I'm the heir to the Autumn Court, you bastard!" He tried winnowing but he had no luck. His fingers, he noticed, were trembling. Shaking so hard that when he tried to grab onto the doorknob, he couldn't grip onto it firmly. Instead, he let his hands clench to his sides. He closed his eyes for a moment, fuming through his nostrils.

"When you open that door," Eris said lowly, though Rhysand probably couldn't hear him, "I'm going to-" But then he heard a click of heels behind him. He swiveled around sharply, his eyes wide as he noticed the thin dark-skinned girl strutting down the hallway in in a casual red dress. She was smiling brightly at him.

"Oh, Eris!" She said happily. "There you-" And suddenly he was fifteen feet away from where he once stood, grabbing Drusilla's thin arm as she yelped. His eyes were blazing. Quickly, he opened the room closest to him, not even caring what it was, and thrusted her into it. She stumbled backwards into the small room, a storage closet, with her back running into a flimsy shelf. Her mouth was open wide.

"Why is she here?" He snarled fiercely. He felt like he was going to jump out of his body. "Is this because of _you_? Have you lost your-" But then Drusilla scoffed at him. He immediately grew silent, letting out a long breath of air.

"I was doing you a favor!" Drusilla shrilled highly. But his entire body was shaking now. He shook his head.

"You have no idea what you've done, you stupid bastard," he growled. "You have no idea what you have cost me now."

"Cost you?" Drusilla mimicked. "What did you have in the beginning? What did I even cost you exactly?" And then he stepped away suddenly, his hands growing limp to his sides. His eyes widened as he shook his head.

"Everything," He whispered, "You cost me _everything_." And then his eyes seemed to fade away, fixed at nothing as he looked away from her. If anything, he felt like he may puke. When Mor had walked through that door, everything stopped. His whole world stopped. He even, for just a moment, forget to breathe. Seeing her, seeing her beautiful face without a single warning, left him so stunned that he had lost his own composure. For the first time, he didn't have a plan.

And truthfully, he had almost said a few things to her. _Don't you look like trash today, Mor_. Or _how many bastards did you fuck last night?_ Or even _are you still sucking that bastard's dick?_ Of course, there were no truth to any of the words. If anything, it punctured him when he forced himself to let them out. He had to do it, he told himself. He had to remind her how horrible he was so that she would never find out they were mates. So that even if, one day, she did feel the string, she would hate him so much that she would never even realize that it was him on the other side.

But when he saw her, he could only see the girl in the fire. He could only see the girl smiling at him, the girl he always dreamed of being with. For hours last night, he stared at her in the fire, imagining her with him. Pulling at that string, watching as her smile grew a little bit brighter each time. There was even a moment that he imagined her being with him, living in the Autumn Court, being _his_ High Lady. He would do it, he thought. He would crown her if it meant being with her without repercussions. But even if his father died and he became High Lord, the Autumn Court was filled with foxes. He would never risk her happiness.

"Well, forgive me then," Drusilla spat cruelly. Her shoulders collided with his as she shoved him to the side roughly, knocking the breath of his lungs. But before she opened the door, he spoke.

"What? Were you thinking I'd spill out my longest kept secret just because she walked through the door?" Eris said, a low laugh coming out of him. "Did you really think I was that breakable?" And then when she turned around her, her eyes were round. Not in fear, but in shock. Pity. She shook her head slowly.

"No, I thought _she_ deserved a chance," Drusilla said softly. "She deserves a chance to…to make a choice." Eris's eyebrows went up slowly, almost humored.

"I hate to break this to you," Eris said, his voice just as soft, "But she's a _lesbian_. I wouldn't be her choice even if I wasn't a prick to her." Drusilla's face of disgust dropped for just a moment, her eyes round. Clearly, as her face grew whiter, she was in shock. Not because she didn't know, but because _he_ wasn't supposed to know. But then she recovered, her back straightening as she eyed Eris levelly.

"Bisexual," Drusilla corrected dryly. "She likes men too, dimwad." Eris let out a low chuckle. He had kept tabs on Mor for years. Not exactly through professional spies, but servants he bought under the table. Old friends that the Night Court forgot had affiliations with the Autumn Court. He knew that she was bisexual, yes, but it had been ages since she had found a genuine romantic relationship with a man. The idea of her liking any person with a penis was laughable.

"The war is over," Drusilla pointed out, her voice rising in frustration. Her hands were out in the air, clear impatience filling her face. "It's over. There's no more Amarantha or Hybern or anybody. Who gives a shit?" And then Eris's eyes blazed. His face, livid as he grabbed onto Drusilla once again, was filled with white rage.

"Who gives a shit?" Eris mimicked back, his voice filled with fury. "Me. I give a shit. Because every single fucking night I see her. I see her dead or beaten or raped or crying. I see her chained to a wall Under the Mountain, watching as Amarantha cuts her up piece by piece. I see her in the Autumn Court, forced to be my father's slave day and night. I see Hybern dunking her into the Cauldron, drowning her until she turns into a monster. I see her shriveled up on the ground, blood spouting out of her, _dying_." He let out one more ragged breath as he took in Drusilla's face. She looked…broken, almost. Her bottom lip was trembling.

Shaking, he let her go. He backed away slowly, shaking his head. Even though his eyes went to the ground, hers didn't leave his face.

"I'm sorry," he heard her say, her voice but a whisper so soft that it almost seemed desperate. "I didn't…I just know she's having issues too." And then his eyes shot up. She hadn't moved an inch.

"Issues?" He repeated sharply. Suddenly, everything came back to focus. "What kind of issues?" And at the end of his words, his voice came out numb. Maybe even childish as he grasped desperately for her next words. She hesitated for a moment, color washing over her face.

"She's depressed," Drusilla said, though Eris knew she was simplifying it. "I think all of the pain she has ever pushed down, all of which she had pushed away, is finally coming back now that everything is calmer." Eris held her gaze for a moment, swallowing. She looked at him carefully, as if waiting for him to buck up and reveal the truth but…

"She'll get over it," he uttered numbly. "She always does." Drusilla let out a low laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You won't even try?" Drusilla asked. His eyes flashed at her and his lips curled up.

"Try what exactly? Seduce her, woo her, make her feel the mating bond?" Eris guessed coldly, but Drusilla didn't even stutter.

"Be her damn friend," Drusilla snapped back. "At least try." And then his cold expression dropped.

"Be her friend?" He repeated back, as if the words were a foreign language. Drusilla nodded impatiently. "While that sounds like a lovely offer, I burned that bridge a while ago."

"Really? _Burned that bridge_? Do you understand how childish you sound right now? You are going to be the High Lord soon. You're going to have to learn how to rebuild friendships. She needs someone in her li-"

"What about _me_?" Eris demanded suddenly. "What about my life? What if I don't want her to be sniffing around the Autumn Court?" Drusilla blinked at him twice.

"I don't believe that," Drusilla breathed. "I don't believe that for one second." And then they found themselves in a tempting silence. They both glared at one another, holding each other cold eyes, but then he sniffed at her.

"Well, it's too late. After what I said at the last meeting…it's too late." Drusilla hands flung out frustratingly, her eyes blazing.

"What the hell did you do the last time talked to her then? Go on, tell me. Tell me this unforgivable thing you said, Eris." Eris crossed his arms tightly, looking away from her.

"I might have…I might have called her a slut," Eris mumbled. Drusilla's mouth opened widely.

"You called her a slut? _Why_?!" Drusilla demanded, her teeth clenched angrily. "Forget it, don't bother answering. It doesn't matter now. Anyways, you've done worse." The last part was a slap to the face, the words stinging in his gut painfully. Eris took in a heavy breath, shaking his head. ~

"That's very, very debatable. The context was a bit…too much," Eris admitted evenly, putting his finger in the air, "But to be fair, I had my-" Drusilla took a dangerous step next to him, forcing him to drop his pointer finger.

"I swear if you say _reasons_ , I am going to smack you on the opposite side of your head," Drusilla growled. Eris could only blink at her.

"I am the future High-" And then he felt a harsh wham on the back of his head, watching her hand in the corner of his eyes collide with him. He flinched dramatically. "Ow! Cauldron, what was that for?" And her crystal amber eyes didn't soften.

"For being a douche," she hissed, not before leaving the closet and slamming the door behind her.

"Go on. Sit, sit, sit," Rhysand waved peevishly, just as he sat down and continued to load his plate. "Don't let my presence stop you from enjoying your delightful breakfast. _Eat_." And to Eva's surprise, Helion obeyed. Carefully, his movement sharp and stiff, Helion sat next to her. When he scooted in, he made sure his chair was less than an inch away from hers – his hand brushing against her own. Not necessarily as a romantic gesture, but to feel her. To reassure himself, despite everything, she was still there.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Helion huffed. "I can take a lot from you, Rhysand, but this? This isn't the damn Spring Court. You can't just waltz in whenever you feel like it." Rhysand shoveled a large amount of eggs in his mouth, nodding his head casually as he held Helion's gaze. Helion, clenching the arm chair tightly, fumed.

"Is it?" Rhysand replied back, his voice muffled from the food in his mouth. "Because so far, I've seen a stolen woman held against her will, an obnoxious red-headed twat, and a man who, when in the opportunity to help his beloved, instead bangs her in front of an entire court." And when Rhysand smiled, a terrifyingly seductive smile, Helion's nose flared. Yet, at the same time, his face lost its color. Clearly, he was weighing his options. Force Rhysand out and possibly deal with whatever temper tantrum he has planned, or allow the half-breed Illyrian reveal why he was here. Surely, Rhysand didn't just visit to taunt him.

"He's half dead," Rhysand blurted, his eyes leveling to Eva. Clearly, he had seen the anxiety filling her eyes. "Beron is half-dead." And it was at that moment did the Lady of Autumn realize that she had never actually exchanged serious words with the High Lord. Sure, she had been casted into the middle between him and Beron's arguments multiple times, but he had never addressed her seriously.

"Do you have him?" And there was no judgement in her voice. No anger, no emotion. Just a simple question. And despite Rhysand's infamous need to taunt, his face had grown serious. As if, like Helion, he saw the scars and bruises that hid beneath her clothes, as if he knew the sacrifices she took every day. Almost like he admired her.

"No," he replied seriously. "I don't. Autumn Court rebels did it. They have him." And now she was clutching the chair tightly. Her lips pressed into a tight line.

"After all these years? They finally come out of the darkness?" Eva asked, anger ringing in her voice. And this time Helion stiffened. He looked at her pointedly and a new memory was flashing in his head. A memory that she believed he had surely forgotten. That she wished she had forgotten.

"How do you even know this?" She asked softly. "Why do you care?" And this time Rhysand smirked, shrugging lazily. But then Helion leaned forward instantly.

" _Rhysand_ -"

"I may or may not occasionally fund their cause," Rhysand chortled, picking at his fingernails. He didn't so much as glance at Helion. "Without their constant pestering, Beron would have the money to move his forces to other courts and I think we can all agree that Beron shouldn't have that luxury." And then there was a moment of silence. Helion let out a breath, leaning against the back of his chair again. Clearly, he agreed. Eva's eyes, in contrast, flashed.

"We also have nationalists who are twice as strong," Eva said. "We can't just let him stay there. The nationalists will-"

"Oh, don't be fooled, he will die," Rhysand interrupted, flashing her a pointed smile. "It's just a matter of _when_." And she waited for it to hit. The pain of her husband, a man she once loved, dead. The father of her children, the man who was supposed to be the love her life. But then she looked at Helion. He was staring at her as well, reading her face. Trying to figure out what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Trying to figure out if she devastated or happy. As if he was trying to figure out if she really wanted to be with him or if it was just a dream she was playing.

"Then what? What are you suggesting?" She asked, her voice growing with an edge. "Unlike you, we don't have an inner-circle. Now, it's only me and my eldest son." But then Rhysand's eyes darkened.

"I suggest you speak with the rebel group," Rhysand said. "Like, say, _tonight_." Her eyebrows twitched up and she felt herself jerk back into her seat. Tonight? That was absolutely impossible. Even with Helion help, they wouldn't be able to clean up the palace enough to host guests. And Eris looked like a complete mess.

"I can't do that," she said urgently, shaking her head. "The Autumn Court-" And then that iconic smile sprawled back onto his face. She stopped speaking, the heat rising to her face as she digested the cunningness that was about to come out.

"Oh, no, see, I invited them here," Rhysand purred. And then Helion jolted forward again, his halo intensifying.

"Here? The _Day Court_?" Helion bellowed suddenly. Clearly, the anger that he had tried to contain so badly had been released. Eva was about to shrink back but then Helion caught her arm. She could feel his power zap through her like lightening.

"Yes, here. Tonight, at the ball," Rhysand said, as if Helion hadn't bursted at all. Helion showed his teeth with a snarl.

" _The ball_? Are you mad? We aren't having a damn ball!" Helion bursted. Rhysand looked up at him casually, holding his stinging glare with a casual gaze.

"We are now. The rebel group was invited," Rhysand repeated. And yet, despite the flatness in his voice, there was a vibration of humor in his voice that Eva heard clearly. Helion fumed, and his halo was beginning to leak onto Eva.

"If they're so damn important to you, why didn't you bother to meet them at your court?" Helion snarled fiercely. Rhysand scowled at this.

"I'm not letting those lunatics inside my court. Are you mad?" Rhysand said back. "But don't worry though. Mor and I will stay tonight. And, if Eris is good, he may even be able to come too."

~*~ discidium ~*~

 **Sorry it took so long. Pls pls pls pls pls pls review. I really need the reviews on this story! If you could just leave something. Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

"You can't possibly be wearing that." Eva turned around swiftly, the red dress swinging around her body elegantly. It wasn't normally her taste – the cherry red dress tugging around her body tightly, with a deep plunge and golden sparkles at the bottom of the train. Across her chest, a golden sash glittered to represent the Autumn Court. In front of her, Helion tried to hide his glowering mood with his body facing away from her.

"Rhysand sent it to my door," Eva said. "He wanted me to look powerful." Helion let out a cold bark of laughter, making her shoulders immediately scrunch downward. She brushed the large curls behind her ears nervously.

"Rhysand is making us into his little puppets," Helion growled. "Inviting the Autumn Court rebels here, of all places. Who the hell is he to do such a thing? And Eva, you don't need a dress to look powerful. You are powerful." At first Eva was quiet, her face tilted towards the ground and the glowing look on her face had washed away.

"I'm sorry," she said aloud. "I'm sorry that I did this to you. I brought him here. It's my fault. If I wasn't here, I-" And then Helion strode towards her, putting her oval-shaped head in his hands.

"Don't think I'm shaming you, darling," Helion said fast. "I am not blaming you. I'd rather you be here at my court then having to bare whatever torture your husband is going through." She held his shining gaze and she swallowed nervously.

"But you never asked for any of this. Don't think I'm expecting you to do this, Helion. Please, don't host a ball for these rebels unless you truly want to. I'll communicate a different way." But Helion shook his head hastily, letting go of her face and sitting on the nearby couch.

"We've been going around for hours about it, Eva," He reminded her. "They're too close to be uninvited now. They're only a few miles away. And now that Rhysand has made himself apart of this, I can't back down. We'll just have to get through this peacefully. Of course, if Rhysand struts in there running his mouth, I may destroy that entire ballroom with one burst of light." Carefully, she turned around to face him again.

"You want this to go peacefully? After all of what they've done?" Eva repeated. Helion pursed his lips for a moment, as if trying to muster the words he wanted to say.

"You're-well, the Autumn Court…" Helion was struggling as he spoke. "I don't see this ending in your favor, Eva." Her eyes held his gaze tightly.

"You can't know that," Eva argued. "Maybe if we negotiate their demands, maybe if we-"

"Saved the Autumn Court?" Helion finished. "If Rhysand has funded them all this time, then they've been planning this for years. They're ready to fight, and they have good reason too." She took a shaky breath, trying to push all of the Autumn Court worries out of her head. There were still so many questions, so many issues. In less than an hour, these people would be here, demanding an answer from _her_.

"Peacefully then," she agreed. " _Peacefully_."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"They're all dead then?" Eris asked dryly. He was lounging across his couch lazily as his eyes rose to Drusilla. After their argument, he marched to his room and closed his door so loudly that it vibrated against the hall. Only about a half-an-hour later, Drusilla had knocked on his door. Clearly, she was the informant.

"Who?" She replied, one of her eyebrows rising impatiently. Eris shrugged.

"My brothers," Eris replied. "The remaining, at least. They're morons. They can't survive the Autumn Rebels." He let out a laugh and Drusilla stiffened. She pursed her lips at him.

"Can you, for once, at least pretend to care?" She asked slowly, balling her fists at her sides. "They were your family. _Your family_." Eris's eyes looked her over again. She couldn't have weighed over a hundred pounds and she barely went up to his torso. She was tiny, tiny as can be, yet she almost looked intimidating

"I would care a little bit more if I wasn't banned from the rest of the castle," Eris said bitterly. He was forcing himself to swallow it down – the anger, the resentment, the hot searing need for revenge against Rhysand and Helion. But he remained calm. "I mean, I can't really do that much about anything, _can I_?" Drusilla rolled her eyes. After Eris had entered the room, he soon learned he couldn't leave. It was a spell of some sort – either from Rhysand, who expected him to storm to his room immediately and hoped to trap him there indefinitely, or possibly one of the many priestesses that roamed the halls. Either way, he was done throwing a fit. He would do it their way – quietly. Like a snake.

"Unfortunately, I don't think you'll be able to do anything for a long time. The ball…" And then Drusilla trailed off, explaining that he was certainly not invited and that Rhysand had banned him from going. He waited a few moments after her pause to speak, slowly sitting up.

"I can't go at all?" He asked, once again. She shook her head stiffly.

"No," she said. "You can't go. And before you share some speel about how you're the High Lord of the Autumn Court, I'll remind you that my father doesn't care." Eris squinted at her.

"So you came in here just to tell me about a ball that I'm not invited to?" He repeated back, watching as her face slowly unraveled. "Instead of sending a servant – hell, or waiting for my mother to come in and break the news? You're telling me that you, the daughter of the High Lord of Day, wasted your time to talk to me?" A small smile was beginning to show on his face, but not a friendly one. A cold, sour smile. Her face began to drain.

"Fuck you," she said. "I was just trying to be nice." She turned on her heel sharply and quickly, Eris rose to his feet.

"Wait, no, stop!" He said – no, _begged_. His voice cracked in the middle, a desperateness leaking into his tone. She stopped, her thin caramel-colored fingers on the doorknob. Even though she wasn't facing him, he saw her clenched jaw and the scowl on her face.

"I've been locked in here for hours. Hours," Eris said. "I know you don't understand but I have to go. I have to. So tell me why you came in here – tell me what you want me to do. Because I know you came in here to bargain with me." He knew, right when she stepped in, that she wanted something. Because he saw the look on her face. The face he had mastered so many times when he interrogated prisoners, bullied the people around him. The face he had when he had the power, when he needed something and he would use anything to get it.

"I want you to apologize to her." Eris's face fell.

"Apologize? To my _mother_?" Eris asked slowly. "I'm the last person who needs to apologize her. Maybe you should go demand an apology from your father for violating h-"

"To Mor," Drusilla said louder. "I want you to apologize to Morrigan." Eris looked at her hardly for a moment, challenging her cold gaze, but then he bursted out in laughter. Not in the cold, intimidating laughter he usually had – true, humored laughter.

"I let you see the little sensitivity I have, Drusilla," Eris chortled. Her eyebrows furrowed down. "Dear heavens, don't tell me you think that I actually feel _guilty_?" A sadness flickered in Drusilla's eyes but it didn't effect Eris.

"I think you're lying," she said softly. "And I think you're a fool for not apologizing. I think you're not as bad as you say you are and I believe, if you explain it to her, she'll forgive you. Maybe not now, maybe not fully, but one day she will forgive you." And while that was a great speech, it meant nothing. He might have felt a little guilty, sure, but it wasn't enough to truly apologize.

"I made a deal with myself long ago that I would never try to embrace our string. I don't want her to feel it. I don't want anything to do with her," Eris replied, shrugging. "Don't give me that look. She's not the reason I'm unhappy, Drusilla. I'm unhappy because my court is in peril and nobody gives a damn but me." And once again, Drusilla didn't care. Nobody cared. Not even his own damn mother. And, for the first time, it dawned on him that he actually might miss that party. He assumed that Drusilla would come in with a relatively easy demand – not something that was certainly impossible.

"I don't care about your happiness," Drusilla spat. "To be frank, I don't care about you at all. But now that you told me that you are her mate, that you can fix this…this pain that has filled her since the last few months." His smirk dropped immediately. Though the bond hadn't fully clicked, he cared about her happiness. He cared a little too much.

"Nothing I can do can fix her unhappiness," Eris replied, his voice serious. "Nothing. If anything, my death is the only thing that can get her satisfaction." Drusilla shook her head.

"She's empty. She's been telling me for months that a part has been aching…she's felt more discomfort than ever. And when you told me that you were her mate, I know it was because of you. For cauldron's skies, you have been keeping the mating bond a secret for centuries. You didn't actually think she would never notice it existed? It can't be healthy for one person to know for that long, and one person to never know at all. In the end, the bond must form. The bond must click or..." He didn't want her to finish her sentence. He didn't want to hear it. Suddenly, his hands were clammy. His chest was tight. He fucked up, he thought suddenly. What if he was wrong this entire time? She was right about something he had never thought of. What would be the consequence for one person knowing of the bond, knowing of its existence, acknowledging its existence, for centuries, and the other person…not feeling it at all. It was unnatural, unheard of. The bond was created for both of the individuals to feel it, not just one. Letting it be unbalanced for this long – _what does that do to a person_?

"That's ridiculous," he spat at her. "Morrigan is just going through effects of the war. She's probably just lonely. Anyways, even if she did feel it with me, she would remain in denial of it until the day she died. She hates me so much that she would rather perish than acknowledge me as a potential mate. I think you forget that she's just as stubborn as I am. Maybe she has more of a conscience, sure, but there is a reason we are mates. We are one and the same." To Eris's dislike, something brightened on her face.

"What?" He sighed. "What now?" She smiled at him.

"I have an idea," she said. "And you may actually like it."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She couldn't breathe. The people around her – whirling in a suffocating room, far too many to be labeled as a ball. People were dancing, sure, but there was something wrong. A creepy, crawley feeling running down her back. Most of the people there were wearing red, a dark maroon red that once signified the Autumn Court. It was traitorous for them to wear it, as if they already flaunting their victory.

"It's politics," Rhysand said beside her. Helion had gone to greet the leader of the opposing party, probably to make sure that he had no ill intentions against her. "This will be done before you know it." She looked up at the High Lord of Night. A piece of her was begging to ask why he was helping her. There had to be a good reason, saying as Rhysand would more than benefit of the Autumn Court falling.

"Lucien," Rhysand said suddenly. She blinked. "He has a fighting chance at the throne now, yes?" Her face flushed with redness. At first, she forgot how to lie.

"Technically, at least," Rhysand continued, shrugging casually. Her jaw clenched. "Oh yes – I know of your son's heritage. Trust me, it would be better off keeping his identity a secret." She swallowed, pausing for a few seconds before she responded.

"We decided we are going to tell him," She heard herself say. "He deserved to know." Rhysand's eyebrows raised as his eyes scanned the crowd. Though his attention was elsewhere, he still responded to her.

"Helion's people will never accept him. You have made that impossible now. He is the son of Autumn, and I must say, he might even be good at it if he watches his mouth," Rhysand said with a low growl. "I don't want the Autumn Court to fall. It's too messy – the rebels will demand my backing and I refuse to give it. I would be forced to slaughter more people than I have the time for. But I can put in the energy to back Lucien, I'm willing to do that." Her eyes squinted at him.

"And why should I listen to you?" Eva said, her voice as sharp as a hard bite. "Helion says that ending this in peace is the only way to solve this." Rhysand let out a low chuckle.

"You mean giving them your land, your life?" Rhysand asked. "Eva, darling, you have one of the most valuable things in the world at the palm of your hand. You are in a sticky situation with, well, being stuck here and everything…but Amarantha isn't here anymore. We are our own people, with our own freewill. You survived that hell hole – now, you have to demand more from the world that disadvantaged you so bitterly." And then Helion came in view, clearly trying his best to remain calm as he went around the sea of people, but she saw the glowing anxiety in his eyes.

"Rhysand," Helion said stiffly, and then looked at Eva. "Eva, beautiful." His eyes ran down her, as if he couldn't help but look for the damage that Rhysand could cause. Rhysand snorted.

"I spoke to the leader – well, the temporary leader. The real leader is elsewhere, possibly at your castle. He's willing to negotiate," Helion said, his eyes jumping to Rhysand immediately. "But he wants to speak with you…alone." Eva's lips pursed and she inhaled sharply. She was not a High Lady, Beron had forbidden her from politics as much as possible.

"I want my son with me when I speak to him," Eva said, nodding slightly. "Helion, have you seen-" Helion's aura dimmed. Beside them, Rhysand let out a low chuckle. Her eyebrows furrowed down at the both of them.

"What? Why do both of you have that look?" She demanded. "Where is Eris?" Rhysand looked over to Helion with a thin smirk. Helion shot Rhysand a cold look but Rhysand pretended he hadn't even saw it.

"I…well…He's in his room," Helion said hoarsely. "I just thought it would be better for him to stay out of view, as Rhysand had demanded." She stepped closer to him.

"You locked my son up?" Eva snarled. "Helion-"

"Your son is pure fire, Eva. He couldn't get through this peacefully if his life depended on it. He'll just get himself hurt," Helion said, and then added quietly, "He'll get _you_ hurt."

"He was the heir to my husband," she hissed, and she saw how Helion flinched. A part of her cared, but she knew he had no right to do such a thing. "He has a right to be here. It's his court t-"

"You must be Eva." Eva swirled around at the husky voice. Suddenly, many of the men who wore the Day Court formal clothes whipped out their swords, facing the man as well as the man stepped closer.

"Don't worry," the man said, a true smile on his voice as he rose his hands humorously. "I will not touch the Lady of Autumn. I just want to speak." Eva looked over at Helion quickly, and she saw the coldness locked in his eyes. An intimidating coldness that she only saw a few times.

The man was good looking, to her surprise. She expected someone raggedly, but he was much like Rhysand – dark hair, tan skin, dark brown eyes that had a tint of a color she couldn't quite decipher. Unlike Rhysand, though, his dark hair was curly and whipped around his ears. His maroon suit fit him well and his body was well fit for someone who had disappeared from society. His smile was crooked and his eyes were filled with warmth.

"You wouldn't mind speaking with me, would you, Lady of Autumn?" She merely stared at him. "I was promised a meeting. I have no intention to kill – unless, of course, you have an intention to kill me." She couldn't help but glance at her sides. Rhysand was gone, but Helion had moved closer to her. Even though he didn't have a sword, like most of his men, his glow was harsher. She could tell his magic was built up inside him, ready to lash out if needed.

"My son, Eris, was meant to be here. I must-" The man's dark eyebrows furrowed down.

"I was told I would speak to the Lady, and with all due respect, that is who I want to speak to," the man replied. "If you feel more comfortable, bring some of your men. I'm not here to intimidate you." Helion nodded.

"I will-"

"I said men," the man interrupted. "Not a High Lord. This is Autumn business, not the Day Court." Helion's eyes blazed. Eva knew that look – he could've bursted right then and there. The man didn't even twitch.

"I don't have any men from my court," Eva replied honestly. "But I will go with you anyways. Don't wait for my command, lead the way." And as the man turned towards the doors again, she felt Helion's begging gaze. But she followed him out – past the double doors, and into a dark hallway she had never been.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"This is stupid." He didn't know who was more to blame – Drusilla, for following her vulnerable heart, or him for agreeing with something so completely stupid. But he was in the crowd now. He was later than he desired, and he couldn't find his mother in the crowd, but the place was swimming with mingling Autumn Rebels and Helion's military. Helion had ordered many whores disguised as rich women to attend the ball, just so that there would be Autumn Rebels distracted and dancing on the dance floor. Helion, he saw, was sitting next to the punch ball, his face filled with a scowl. It took every part of Eris not to lash out, to not go to Helion and unleash every bit of fire that he had. But he knew he had to save his strength for the leader of the rebels. As far as he could see, he didn't notice anyone that could be the Autumn Rebellion leader. They all wore the same, used uniform. Unless, of course, the leader was wearing the same exact uniform as everybody else which seemed unlikely.

Eris, on the other hand, was wearing a Day Court uniform. Eris's eyes flickered towards a nearby reflection. After Drusilla made her bargain, she transformed him into something else. He looked like an entirely different person – he had caramel skin, alike to hers, with his head closely shaved and sea-like eyes that nearly glowed when he passed by a torch. His shoulders were wider, but his height remained the same. He had to admit though, he looked friendlier. With less bags under his eyes and a glow that might even make him seem innocent. Like he had never committed the sins that had taken part of his soul.

"You know the deal," Drusilla said, humored as she watched him sigh at his reflection. "After an hour, I will transform you back. Use your hour wisely." His eyes flickered at her. How did she even get this gift? Wasn't this a gift of the Spring Court? But he didn't ask. He didn't care – at least not now.

"Fine," he muttered. Drusilla flashed him a victorious smile and then left him in the corner of the ballroom as she went into the sea of people. He stood there for a moment, breathing in the air. He took his time to digest who he was, who he couldn't be.

And then he went towards the door. The leader couldn't be here, and neither was his mother. It didn't take him long to connect the dots that his mother and the leader were having a meeting. Without _him_ , the High Lord of Autumn. It was ridiculous, but whoever the leader was clearly bullied his mother into agreeing to a meeting. It was nearly disgusting that a rebel leader would take advantage of a woman who was mourning her husband, but he couldn't waste his energy getting mad. Even if he wasn't in his own body, he had to get his mother out of that meeting before Drusilla noticed he was gone.

His hands were latched to the knobs of the double doors but then a voice interrupted him. "The doors are locked." He froze. Slowly and stiffly, he turned around.

She was gorgeous, to say the least. She wore a dark dress that was scattered with sparkles. It trailed to the ground but there were long slits that went up both of her legs and a deep plunge across her chest. Her dress was fairly bland to say the least, yet she stood out amongst the crowd of two hundred people.

His throat had never felt so dry.

"I have to pee," He let out. Suddenly, his face flushed red. That was possibly – no, _certainly_ – the stupidest excuse he had ever used. Centuries of being alive, and that was the best excuse he could muster at the top of his head?

She wasn't that impressed. Her eyebrows went up slowly, as if trying to drag out his humiliation as long as possible. Her eyes eyed him up and down, and he counted the seconds until she looked up at him again.

"And how long do you think this will be locked?" Eris said. He didn't notice until that moment that Drusilla had changed his voice too. Instead of cold, cut-like voice he had before, his voice was softer. While it might have appeared nice to her, it prevented him from being intimidating.

"You're new, aren't you?" She said, a small smile on her face. It was a pitiful smile, not a smile that he desired.

"Phillip," he replied, letting out his hand. "And you are?" She didn't shake it. Her eyebrows rose even higher, a darkness shadowing across her face.

"Don't touch the door," She instructed flatly. "And when you go back to your friends, asking who I may be, and you watch as their faces drain, make sure to mention to them not to touch the doors either or I will unleash myself like an untrained dragon." And with that threat, leaving Eris tonguetied, she walked away from him. His eyes followed her as strut to the other side of the ballroom, catching every eye that she went past. But then, for just a split second, she stopped.

A young servant girl had almost tripped. She was pretty – red-brown hair, curvy. Even from where Eris stood, he could decipher the soft look on the young girl's face. It was obvious that she had only recently been hired, saying as she still had a glow to her skin and an honest smile. The girl recomposed herself without anyone noticing, but Morrigan was still frozen with her eyes on her. It wasn't until the girl left from Eris's sight did Morrigan look away. Her shoulders scrunched over and she hurriedly went outside to the balcony. Eris was still, still as an animal, but then he felt his feet move.

It wasn't until his feet stopped and he realized what he had done until he was on the balcony too and could feel the warm air brush against him. He glanced up, looking the light blue sky. There were stars but they were more hold than usual and the sky wasn't nearly as dark as it would have been in the Autumn Court.

"Clearly, you didn't take my advice," Morrigan growled. She had a cup in her hand, leaning over the balcony. They were probably ten stories up, looming over the city peacefully. He swallowed.

"I wanted to…" His voice stopped for a moment. "I wanted to apologize. I was rude and I didn't know who you were." The string he ignored so frequently burned. He ignored it, willing it to stop burning so that she wouldn't feel it. Based upon the look on her face, she didn't feel a thing.

"Okay," she said. "I will take your apology as if I care and _no_ , I won't dance with you and _yes_ , I know I'm beautiful and _sure_ , the sky is almost as beautiful as I am." Clearly, he had started with a rocky start. Yet, with the tone in her voice, he had to believe that it wasn't his fault, for the first time ever.

"I'm Drusilla's half-brother," he said suddenly. He hadn't realized he had made that up until he said it aloud. "Like Drusilla, I was forbidden from fighting in the war, so _no_ , I didn't know you and _yes_ , I do have the audacity to speak to you." At first she said nothing, he only heard the light whistle of the air. He was about to turn on his heel, forgetting this nonsense, but then she spoke.

"Drusilla never told me she had a half-brother. She must not like you that much," Morrigan said. Eris let out a laugh.

"We have only met a handful of times," Eris explained, his hands latching behind his back. "Though, that could be a plausible explanation." Morrigan let out a puff of air, and he couldn't decipher if it was an exhale of humor or an exhale of impatience.

"You must hate him," Morrigan replied. Eris blinked stupidly, his hands loosening.

" _Hate_ him?"

"Certainly. For letting your friends die on the battle field as you lounge in your mansion luxuriously," Morrigan spat cruelly. Despite it being untrue, Eris flinched.

"Actually, I was too busy recovering from Amarantha to properly fight in a war," Eris hissed. And it wasn't necessarily a lie – he was constantly bearing hallucinations during the day and nightmares at night. He lacked sleep and could barely stay awake during the day. The only reason he fought was because he had to. If there was a worthy replacement, he would've been on the sidelines.

"But of course, you wouldn't know of that torture, would you?" Eris continued. "Because you were too busy lounging in your own mansion." And then she swiveled around quickly, her teeth out and hissing. Her body was straight as line and she could've killed him – could've killed him before he even knew she was going to attack him. But he didn't even twitch. He looked at her in the eyes.

"Don't look at me and say our sins aren't equal," Eris breathed. "We are no better nor worse than each other." Morrigan backed away, her face slowly softening. Not fully, of course. But slowly. Tiredly.

"I shouldn't have come," she growled under her breath. "I should've sent…" And then her voice was too soft for him to hear. Clearly, she was talking to herself.

"You can leave now," She said louder. "Go find someone else to bother, would you?" It was unusual to hear her be cruel, he thought. Usually, she liked being playful with people, taking advantage of whoever she was speaking to.

"I ran out of people to bother," Eris said evenly. "You're the last one left." She was quiet this time, as if she didn't have the energy to argue. Clearly, she had wasted enough energy in the last twenty-four hours.

"I couldn't imagine why," Morrigan grumbled. He let out a laugh, taking another step forward as she leaned against the balcony.

"People don't think I fit in here," Eris explained, pretending as if he hadn't heard the sarcasm in her voice. "I'm not…what's the right word? Pompous. _Pompous_ enough." She was quiet for a moment, but then she laughed.

"They're right, you aren't," She agreed. "Being too friendly doesn't come off threatening." He inhaled sharply.

"And being avoidant isn't threatening either, but here we are. Standing outside a balcony, both of us imagining burning this entire place down," Eris said with a light laugh. "Despite my previous choices, we would make quite the team, Morrigan." She laughed again, and he couldn't tell if it was mockingly or truthfully.

"How do you know that?" Morrigan asked, turning towards him. Her eyes were cold, nailing on him like a dagger. He swallowed.

"I guess…I…" He choked. "You're easy to read, I suppose." Her eyes narrowed on him further.

"That's a dangerous thing to say," she replied. He watched as she sat down at one of the nearby chairs. Hesitantly, he followed her, sitting in the chair next to her.

"I have a lot of dangerous things to say," he replied truthfully. She let out a laugh. It rang outside the balcony, into the light skies.

"Tell me one more then."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Helion's eyes were like daggers as she left the ballroom. The walls didn't do anything – she was sure his eyes were still following her, begging her to come back. In a way, she wanted that. She wanted to be wanted. _Screw this_ , she thought. She didn't want to fight anymore, she didn't want anything from the Autumn Court. She just wanted her sons and Helion.

"Ladies first," the man said, holding up the door. Taking small steps, she lead him in, her eyes whisking around as she walked in.

"It looks like nobody has been in here in eons. And the only thing in here is two plastic chairs and a table," Eva huffed. As she took a seat, the man let out a small chuckle.

"You would think we would have a better meeting area, but I felt like this would be the last room your new High Lord would check," he said evenly. "Now, would you like some wine?" She was quiet for a second, still eyeing the dirty room. There were old drapes dangling off the dirty windows and dust covering anything. Slowly, her eyes went back to the man. He looked happy – soft as a feather. She shook her head as he held out the wine bottle. She could see from where she sat that it was expensive, but she wasn't in the mood for drinks.

"Who are you?" She asked. "You look like you haven't had a hard life. A few tired lines but that's it. And wide shoulders, a perfect posture. Your clothes are brand new. Unless you were waiting for this occasion to spend this money, you have to come from a good family. There are calluses on your hands though. You have fire and you've used it thoroughly." He was quiet for a second, his eyes darkening as he leaned back in his chair.

"Good," he whispered. "You're good. Better than I expected." She didn't blink. She could've asked what he meant, but she couldn't help but show that she was impressed by the fact he had done research. Not enough, clearly, but at least some.

"My name is Magnus, admiral of the Autumn fleet, fifth descendant of the Lord Daenysus and heir to the main bank of the Autumn Court. I'm twenty-third in line for the throne, but of course, I only say that at parties," Magnus chuckled. Her whole body tightened.

"You're saying you're my-"

" _Second_ cousin," Magnus finished, and his eyes twinkled as he did so. "I remember you as a child. You were so free spirited. Your father would constantly tell you to stop going into that wretched forest but I remember you couldn't ever stop. You wanted to climb every tree, meet every traveler. Back then we didn't know how fragile-"

"Stop," she said firmly. "This is enough. I'm done here." She began rising from her chair but his hands, rough with calluses, found hers.

"No, speak to me. Listen to me, Eva," he said, and there was a desperate tone at the end of his voice. The way he said her name caught her. Slowly, she went down to her seat.

"My son should be here. He is the heir to throne and I-"

"People are already bowing to me," Magnus said. "I've gotten over a half a thousand gifts from commoners. It's too late. Your family's reign is over." Her eyes began to burn. Though she loved the Day Court, she would always look at the Autumn Court as her home. Yet, Helion had told her firmly that it was over. Eris was elsewhere, and she didn't have a possible heir to flaunt.

"Fine," she said quietly. The seconds ticked before she spoke again. "What do you want? Our heads?" His smile dropped.

"I already have enough heads," he said honestly. "I want you." Her eyes, which had fallen to her lap, looked up at him. She was sure they were as round as saucers.

"I have-I don't understand what you're insinuating," she heard herself say. The back of her neck began to sweat.

"I need a High Lady," Magnus said with a smirk. "And the people like you." She huffed at this immediately, reading his face like transparent glass.

"Rhysand likes me," she corrected. "That's who you mean, right? Rhysand picked me for you." His smile grew, stretching across his face. A glimmer of pride flickered in his eyes.

"Don't take it negatively," Magnus said. "You're a likable person. I liked you as a child, why wouldn't I like you now?" There was dead silence. Her dark eyes were on him piercingly.

"You said High Lady," she responded quietly. "Not Lady. _High_ Lady. You want a queen." It wasn't a question, she wanted an explanation. He nodded.

"I want someone to spend my life with who knows what's going on with my court and knows their politics. You do know their politics. You might have kept your opinions silent, but you aren't a fool. You know who to trust and who not to. Who needs to be outed and who needs to stay for us to reign," Magnus said. And he was genuine about it. Unlike Beron, greed didn't fill his face when he spoke about ruling. He truly, truly wanted the Autumn Court to be better.

"Is he courting you?" Magnus asked, his eyes aiming at the direction of the ballroom. "Helion, I mean." Her lips pressed together firmly.

"He wants me to stay, if that's what you mean," she said coldly. "But that's none of your business." Magnus laughed at this, looking to the closed door as he did so. His hand passed over his lips humorously.

"And he wants to take Lucien as well, I'm suspecting?" Magnus said. "That's-"

"Don't say his name!" She bursted. The anger that filled her, that consumed her, was finally showing. Magnus's mouth dropped. "You will _not_ say his name." He was quiet for a moment, taking in the fire that had finally showed.

"Is it because he's banished or because he's your favorite?" Magnus asked slowly. "I just want to know." She didn't even blink at him. She realized then that her hands were shaking.

"It's because he's gone," Eva spat. "Away from this madness, and now in a better place." Magnus tilted his head, agreeing slightly.

"The Night Court, you mean," he added. "I heard he's not adjusting, though. So forgive me if I believe he could do better elsewhere." Eva lost the color in her face and she shook her head.

"He's happy. I'm his mother, I can-"

"He can be our heir," Magnus interrupted. "I don't want children, but I still need an heir. If you agree to this, if you become my High Lady and help me rule of the Autumn Court, Lucien can be our heir."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Her eyes were so beautiful. They were like deep brown gems that glistened brightly when she looked at him. She was intimidating, terrifying even – he could feel the radiant power that she possessed leak off her like water, but she only had wishful intentions. She had dreams, goals. And she didn't have a crown on her head to hold her back.

"Why are you still staring at me? Aren't you supposed to be telling me what you know?" She asked, her lips tickling the champagne glass in her hand. Her voice came out harsh and mercilessly, as if how _dare_ he even look at her, but there was a small smile on her lips. A smile that was just tempting enough to play with.

"Are you into men?" He asked dauntingly. The smile tipped off her face within a moment. Suddenly, she was sitting upward, her body scrunched together and the color on her cheeks washing away. And for a moment, true terror swept into her eyes. It was as if, just for that second, she was staring at her worst nightmare.

But then something even more terrifying filled her eyes, causing chills to go down Eris's back.

" _Excuse me_?"

"I saw how you looked at that girl," He said, nodding to the girl inside. "Not as if you were courting her but as if…you couldn't help but look. She was too beautiful not to." And then he was looking at Mor again, looking at her in the same exact way as she had. Looking into the pools that only reflected anger and worry. Of paranoia and sadness. Years and years of keeping secrets inside of her, fighting for it not to destroy her.

"I'm not sure what Drusilla has told you," Mor said slowly, her lips curling. "But if I were you, I wouldn't-" She was beginning to get up but then he clasped her arm. Not enough to hurt her, he barely even touched her, but softly. Reassuringly. To his surprise, she stopped. Her eyes lingered at his hand, her eyebrows furrowed down.

"I don't care," he admitted. "If you want to love women – well, I don't blame you. Women are gorgeous." He gave her a thin smile, and while she didn't smile back, the scowl on her face dropped.

"But?" She added, not without looking around them hastily. " _But_?" And then he felt like he had the wind knocked out of his chest because he wasn't sure if he wanted to really know. If he truly wanted to face this nightmare, this moment of truth.

"But I want to know if you're into both," he heard himself say. "I want to know if you…if you _love_ both." She was quiet, her lips slammed shut. There was nothing on her face to reveal what she was thinking, not a single thing.

"You were supposed to be telling me what you do know. Not what you were curious about," she snapped.

"Bite me for wanting verification of what I see," Eris said back, in the same exact tone. She looked at him warningly but then exhaled.

"Yes," she said sharply. "I do love both. I tend to love women more though. I always have loved women more. But then she…" and her eyes were down at her lap as she lifelessly fell back into the chair. "…I had a lover. For years. And when it ended, I felt like I had died. For years and years and years, I felt like a part of me was gone. I went to women more after that – for sex, at least. I thought about her so much that men just started to…"

"Blend into the background," Eris finished. There was something burning at the pit of stomach, like fire slowly degrading him. "You never got over her, did you?" His voice broke at the end, but she was too far gone to notice. She was staring up at the stars questionably, her eyebrows pressed down as she stared and stared at the lights above them. She shook her head.

"It's funny how you ask that though, because I've been questioning if that's true," she whispered. "I'll always be attracted to women, always. But lately, I've been having dreams." He stiffened.

"Dreams? Of what?" He asked, and he struggled to push down the anxiety in his voice. She shook her head.

"I…I don't know. It's like a person, but not a person. I don't see him, but I know it's a _him_ ," she answered. "I feel all his feelings. All of his fears. Through the centuries, I would have that feeling occasionally. Like a burst of emotion that I knew wasn't mine, but I had pushed it down. When I closed myself off, I closed _him_ off. And then, only a week or so after the war, I woke up with dripping sweat. Of fear, of anger. Fear and anger to an extent that I had never felt. I had seen glimpses, like shadowed images in the darkness. Not of anything great – maybe a hand pressed against a cold willow tree, or a snowflake falling down from the sky." Eris swallowed. He couldn't assume she was talking about himself. It was too much, too tempting. He wouldn't give himself that victory. He didn't trust himself not to act on it.

"I don't know his name," she went on, "I don't even really know if I want to. But I feel like I know him. I feel like I've always known him. Like a part of me – a small string. And I even felt it last night. I was at a party and then suddenly, everything was gone. That string pulled me away from my world and whisked me away, trying its best to bring me to him, and see his world. But all I saw was blackness. And now I can't stop thinking about it." Eris was still, so very still. He could barely breathe as her eyes glistened, like every word she was thinking was pouring out of her mouth without a hesitation. As if, even unconsciously, she could feel their connection and she trusted him. _Him_ , the next High Lord of the Autumn Court.

"I…I heard an echo once. Of a women screaming. I couldn't quite decipher what she was screaming but I knew it was his name– it was like…like Aries. So that's what I call him," she said hesitantly. "That's what he is to me, at least. _Aries_." His hand went ontop of hers. He didn't know why he had done it – what made him do it. But his fingers, unusually warm, touched hers. She was cold as ice. Her eyes dropped down to his hand curiously, but she didn't object.

"Sometimes it's better not to know," he said, and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "People like us…people who are different. Nobody will ever understand who we are or what made us this way." Her eyes were glistening at him. Trying, like he had done, to unravel him layer by layer.

"Maybe," she agreed in a low voice. "Maybe… Only because I am bisexual though. Bisexuality would be near damn impossible for a man to accept. It's unrealistic to expect a man to be okay with that…But what's wrong with _you_ that makes you so unlovable?" His mouth dried up. He hadn't meant for the conversation to turn his direction – he wanted to talk about her, not himself.

"You have someone, too…" She realized as the silence lengthened. "But you can't have them. Or is that you don't want them?" His hand went back to his lap. He inched away from her, digging back into his chair.

"I have an _Aries_ ," he admitted. Her eyebrows perked up curiously.

"Well, what happened?" She asked eagerly. She inched closer to him, as if the information had made her forget about her own woes entirely. Her face was beginning to brighten again and he almost snapped at her – almost got up from his seat and left without a single hint of guilt. But the beamingly happy look on her face stopped him.

"I didn't react well," He let out. "I was afraid, and I was tired of seeing the people around me hurt. I was tired of seeing people in pain, of being terrified that they would be taken from me. So I made sure it could never happen." And when he met her eyes, he expected to see a whirl of hatred and anger, but there wasn't a hint of judgement. Maybe she didn't care, maybe he was nothing to her so why would she bother getting angry?

"I get that," she said. He nearly flinched at the words. "Pushing them away, making sure they don't love me. I understand that. But I realized lately that you can't live like that. Because if you do, if you don't take that chance, then you aren't really living." And then they were in silence. She looked at him thoughtfully, and he stared down at the ground. While that was an interesting thought, it was impossible. The Autumn Court didn't have that luxury.

"Are you really going to get all sad on me?" Her voice interrupted. His head whipped up at her.

"What?" He breathed. Her smile didn't falter.

"Come on. I want to show you something," she said. And with that, she got up, taking his clammy hand, and pulled him away from everything he felt he needed and towards everything he always wanted.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"That's not funny," Eva said. "Not funny at all." But his smirk was gone and his back was straight as if he was looking at her like she was a military commander as well.

"I'm not trying to be funny. I consulted with Rhysand and he showed me his world. I genuinely like Lucien. I think he was made for more than just...what is he again? Point taken that he could do better than someone's posse. And his wife deserves better too," Magnus said, taking a sip of his drink. "You do know he got married, right? To his mate. Last spring, in the middle of the morning. When the day was shining brightly." Her face drained.

"If you know who he is, then why do you want him?" She asked, her voice hoarse. "You know his parentage, he's a faux to the throne. Let him be." But he shook his head lightly.

"If you look hard enough, we are all fake. Besides Eris, I guess," he said, nodding in that direction again. "But he's busy talking to his mate." Her eyes widened for a moment, a million questions on her lips, but she didn't entertain him.

"Yes, we have spies. Yes, they read minds. No, despite the fact that your son can block people from invading his mind, he's not good at remembering to actually do it," Magnus muttered humorously. "He'll learn soon that he belongs elsewhere. Fighting for the throne – it took away a piece of a soul, but she'll repair him again. He's not a helpless." Her eyes squinted.

"It's not a women's job to repair a man," she said slowly. "And if you don't mind, I have my own man to go back to." And then they heard a ringing sound. It was a distant chime they both knew. It was an Autumn Court song – done by violinists and instruments she wasn't entirely familiar with. She was still, so very still.

"Did he ever dance with you? To this music?" Magnus interrupted. It felt like he was asking at a distance as she yearned for that music, that chime.

"No," she breathed. "But I haven't heard it…in years. Centuries, even." She heard him stand up, and gently but his hands on her. She turned to him. His eyes were careful – happy, yearning like her, but careful.

"What are you-"

"Dancing," he replied, a small smile on his face, and she found that she was dancing with him. "Now, keep on. Tell me more about how I'm a horrible person." He tipped her back right as the chime had told him so. She could feel her heart beating fast, the music consuming them as they danced.

"I want peace," she said, as the chime began to die. "I was my sons happy. I want to live long enough to see them all married. I want to see forgiveness. I want to love." His eyes were like dark pools of wonder, of a dream she once begged for when she met Beron. She knew when she met Beron that he wasn't a good man, but her family made her tolerate it. She always had a good knack at reading people – it was one of her gifts. And Magnus, like Helion, was a good man. Maybe even a better man. Because unless Helion, he never had to commit unthinkable acts to save his people. His soul was fully intact.

"No," Magnus argued. "You want to be acknowledged. You walk these halls and people look at you as if they are waiting for you to be whom you once were but that's not how the world works. You don't go back. You move forward. You _grow_."

~*~ discidum ~*~

He followed her away. Past the hundreds of people, to a door in the wall that he had been too anxious to notice. But he followed her – his alternative motive seemed like a dream he once had. She was too beautiful to let go.

"Where are we going?" He asked in a low whisper. They didn't end up in another hall – this time it seemed like they were…between walls. A hidden passage. He had always begged his father to make one, just in case there was a break in, but Beron never agreed. He was too stubborn. He always said it was a stupid idea and that having an uprising was impossible.

"You're worried," she said, looking back at him. "Don't you trust me?" They were going up thin, crooked stairs now. He blinked at her.

"No," he said honestly. "I don't. _Where are we going_?" She let out a giggle,

"Look," she said. They had gone levels up – probably five or six. But they were looking out now – looking at…where? Every couple feet was a different window, looking at different rooms. Once it was the ballroom, with a familiar song ringing, the next was the High Lord's bedroom, with the bed messy and the dresser open. Then it was the kitchen, and after that it was his own room. Mor had stopped for a split second, looking at the empty space curiously, and then kept walking.

"What are you looking for?" He asked. And then finally she stopped. Something changed on her face – the warmth had disappeared and a hard look had taken over. She looked deathly, like she was on the hunt.

"You missed something," she whispered. "Something important about me - the most important." The back of his neck was sweating. She turned to look at him.

"What?" He asked, this time snappily. She smiled.

"I don't plan on burning this place to the ground," she said, a smile stretching across her face. "I plan on burning down the Autumn Court." And finally he looked out the window and there she was – his mother, dancing an unknown man. Morrigan backed away slowly, allowing to see clearly what was going on.

"What?" Eris breathed. "I don't understand. Who is-" He felt something cold at his throat. A knife.

"I like you, I do," Mor said. "But you aren't Drusilla's brother and that is not Day Court material. I'm not an idiot, you moron. But I…I know you. I can't peg where, but I _know_ you. And I want to know how." He let out a shaky breath. He hadn't brought a knife. He had to agree with her on that – he had been an idiot.

"What can I say?" He said coldly. "I'm charismatic." Clearly, that wasn't the correct answer because she pressed the knife harder.

"You're an Autumn Court spy, aren't you?" She continued, as if he hadn't even spoke. He let out a chuckle.

"That's funny. Truly, funny. Actually, I think you know who I am." Improving, he was truly improving now.

"I am not playing around," she said in his ear. "I want to know what is going on in the Autumn Court." He scowled.

"I am not…" And then she shoved him away. He nearly fell on his ass – again – as he stumbled backwards. He noticed as he looked behind him that they were at a dead end. She had a knife in her hand still, and he knew if he tried pushing past her she would stab him in a moment.

"We are not leaving this crawl space until you tell me what you know," she whispered. He shook his head.

"Is this how you handle outsiders?" He hissed back. "You pull on a knife on them and then threaten to keep them in a crawl space forever?" He noticed behind her that a blue line had been made. Morrigan was no priestess but she could have paid someone to draw it. He couldn't leave, he knew that, but she could.

"I've been through worse," she said back. "I want to know where it is." He blinked at her.

"So you were _using_ me?" Eris blanched. "Are you kidding me?" It was too good to be true, he thought. Of course she was using him. Why would she care about some random man, roaming at a ball with her potential enemies?

Mor shrugged, picking at her nails.

"This could go easily or it can go harshly," Mor said casually. "Now, tell me what you know. Tell me where it is."

"Know where _what_ is?" Eris's voice grew. "I have nothing. I'm just here, alright? I'm just a visitor." It wasn't a lie. Her dark eyes narrowed.

"Are you planning on killing the heir?" She asked finally. His eyebrows rose.

"Eris?" It was weird saying his name aloud, that was for sure. But it was even weirder to expect her to be the protective one. But she scowled.

"Lucien," she corrected coolly. "I want to know if you plan on murdering Lucien. Rhys said that there had to be an assassin that will be used to meet Lady Eva." He was quiet for a moment, staring at her harshly.

"I don't know," he said. "But when you figure it out, mention it to me." And then she took two steps forward, leaning the jagged knife closer to him. He let out a shaky breath.

"No, that's not good enough," she hissed. "You know too much about us. You know far too much. Don't tell me you're intuitive. You know things, you can break into my mind, and I want to know how. Because no other daemati has ever been able to do it." He was tempted to roll his eyes.

He took a shakey breath. He would die here, he thought. He would die here and nobody would find his body.

And then he pulled on that string. Harsher and harsher. Harsher than he had done it ever before. He didn't care now – he had to survive. He had to live and save his family. So he pulled, and he put all of his emotions into it. His fears, his anger, his desires. Her eyes flickered and she tripped backwards.

Her eyes were wide, the brown gems turning darker and darker. She opened her mouth but she looked like she was going to be sick. Her face drained white and she backed away further, away from the line and towards the far wall. Her voice was feeble when she spoke.

"Who-" It took one move to grab the knife. It spun out of her hand landed in her palm. She didn't look scared when he pointed it to her but something flickered in her eyes. Something that was close to terror as her eyes ran down him.

"Fuck you," he interrupted. "Fuck you and your fucking court."

~*~ discidium ~*~

19 pages. I want reviews


	5. Chapter 5

In hindsight, it wasn't his best idea. He should've just killed her. He should've stabbed her when he had the nerve to do it, instead of pointing a knife at her hesitantly. Because now that he saw the sparkle in her brown eyes, the color drain from her face, her hands clenching and unclenching continuously, he could barely breathe. She looked like she was looking a million miles away, trying to understand something that she missed. Trying to piece together all the pieces, except she didn't have all the pieces. And even though she would still be difficult to kill, even with her not paying attention to what he was saying at all, that was quite possibly the only chance he'd ever have.

"Of course, of course…" She kept muttering to herself. His eyebrows furrowed down. She was shaking her head lightly. For a moment, he even thought there were tears in her eyes. " _Of course_." The knife was still pointing at her hazardously.

"I can do it, you know," he said under his breath. He didn't know if he was talking to her or himself or both. "I can do it." She wasn't listening to him. Instead, she was looking him up and down continuously.

"I knew you were real. I should be surprised you're here, shouldn't I? But I'm not." If only she knew that she was actually going through shock. Her feet were planted steadily, but she looked as if she couldn't move even if she wanted to.

"Did you know who I was all this time? When you first saw me?" She asked softly. Her voice was small but lethal. Someone once told him that two mates had the same heartbeat, and now his was running faster than he had ever felt. He could only imagine what she felt inside her body. Surprise, fear, awe. Every feeling you could possibly have, all at once. When he first saw her all those years ago, he felt like he was pieced together. Like he was born broken, but she glued him back. How did she feel? Everyone felt the connection differently.

"Let me guess, someone found you. They knew who my mate was, so they found you and now they're paying you to do this," she deducted. He wanted to shake his head, to reach for her. "They used you to break me."

"That's a stupid theory. You can't be broken. You're invincible. Even I know that." Surprise flickered in her eyes for just a moment. He could feel his – no _her_ – heartbeat slow down. Her eyes finally fell to the dagger, mild interest flooding across her face.

"I know you have magic around you, hiding your identity. I can see it now. Who are you really?" She asked coolly. He opened his mouth, but then he heard footsteps slowly – carefully – creep beside him. He was probably ten feet away but the High Lord of Night loomed. His hands were in his pockets, his jaw clenched. He didn't look like he intended on fighting him. He didn't even see him as an opponent.

"Your mother needs help." The dagger slipped from his hand. He wished he could say that it was Rhysand that made him forcibly drop it, but the words were all it took for the dagger to hit the ground. His mouth was open stupidly. He looked towards Mor immediately, his mind searching for a passible lie, but her eyes were on Rhysand. They were wide. Surely, she hadn't connected the dots yet.

"You knew I had a mate and you didn't tell me?" Her voice was quiet like a child's. Rhysand looked at Eris coolly. Finally, the mercilessness that the Night Court was infamous for showed.

"It's a new revelation. I heard our new friend say something of the sort." Rhysand almost sounded apologetic. "I wanted you to find out yourself." Rhysand's face seemed to tighten when he looked back at Eris. Eris was hoping to see understanding, or possibly even pity, but Rhysand didn't give him anything less than disgust.

"It's your choice, Mor," Rhysand continued. His eyes didn't tear away from Eris but Mor's face ripped with confusion.

" _What_?"

"You get to make the choice if he lives or dies," Rhysand said carefully – so carefully that Eris barely recognized the Rhysand he knew. "I'll do it for you…so you don't have to live with it. But it's still your choice." Mor took a step towards him. Eris didn't say a word. Instead, he put his hands up innocently.

"For the love of the cauldron, aren't we done killing people? And why would you, of all people, think I'm so heartless to kill my own- _him_?" Mor demanded. Rhysand's tight face dropped for a moment.

"He hadn't told you who he is yet?" Rhysand asked, blinking. Mor tried holding up the seriousness, but her face softened.

"I was getting there," she said dryly. "Until you interrupted." It was like watching two siblings bicker. Eris believed that he would never understand their relationship, even once believing it was romantic, but he understood it now. Inches away from death, and he saw more of Morrigan than he ever thought was possibly.

Rhysand swallowed.

"Mor," Rhysand said delicately. " _Mor_. You might want to sit down for this." She wasn't going to sit down. She wasn't the type of girl who prepared herself for dreadful news. She was too strong for that.

"Rhysand," Eris hissed. Rhysand's eyes were blazing when he stared at Eris.

"You don't talk," Rhysand said fast. "You don't get to talk." Mor scowled.

"Go on, Rhys. Go ruin it like you ruin everything," Mor muttered. Rhysand's lips pursed.

"Only you would mate with a High Lord," Rhysand said, impatient now. "Cauldron, only you would mate with the High Lord of Autumn."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"You would do beautifully in the Autumn Court, Magnus. You have the passion, you have the ambition, and you have the manipulation you would need so dearly." She ripped away from him before he could reply. She started to the door, exhausted from everything. From him, from the Day Court, from Rhysand.

"You don't want power?" His voice stopped her from opening the door. "You watched your husband tear down your court, and you're telling me you don't want to fix it?" She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I want to, I do. But I screwed up, Magnus. I failed them, not my husband. I could have killed him in his sleep, I could've tore him down," Eva said, swinging around to face him again. "And I take responsibility for that. I shouldn't be a leader for the Autumn Court. They deserve someone better." His eyes glittered.

"He didn't give you a choice. He locked you into a box," Magnus growled. She let out a low laugh.

"No, I did that. I let him do that. I had a choice, a realistic choice, and now I'm trying to fix it," Eva replied. "By leaving. By spending the rest of my days in the land of sunshine and warmth." And maybe it was because he knew it was true, but his mouth open and closed stupidly.

"I'm sorry that I wasted your time," Eva said, clearly not very sorry at all. "Don't hurt my people. They aren't the cause of this mess." Her hand went to the door but as soon as her fingers touched the doorknob, a seering hotness tickled her fingertips. She ripped away jerkily. But she was used to the feeling of burns on her body. She swung around.

"Open the door," she demanded. Her voice didn't waver. "I don't care what Rhysand told you-"

"Rhysand has barely told me anything," Magnus said, a hint of anger filling his face. "This is between me and you." Her chin rose. He walked toward her slowly, like a predator ready to capture prey. But beneath the sadness and coldness and loss of hope, she was dauntless. She had endured beatings and maliciousness and cruelty. She had watched her children turn to monsters one by one and witness her last one be torn away from her. She wasn't truly afraid of anything. Wary, hesitant, paranoid – but not fearful.

"I want you," he said. His eyes were looking over her up and down. "You believe that Helion will crown you? He won't. But I will." She laughed. Not a cruel laugh – a soft, genuine laugh.

"I don't want to be High Lady. I don't want to be crowned," she said. "I want to be left alone." His eyebrows furrowed. He was only a few inches away now.

"I offered your favorite son as my future succession," he said through his clenched teeth. She blinked at him. "What? Do you want me to offer it to Eris? Is that you would like, instead of Lucien?" But he didn't understand. He didn't understand her family's dynamics. On the contrary, they were better off alone. Lucien wasn't meant to be in her life, he was meant to live far, far away. Eris and she would always be together, Magnus now saw that, but he didn't understand that they both needed the same thing as well.

"Eris doesn't need to be someone's succession either, Magnus. He needs a savior. And now that you told me that he had found his future wife, his ability to love, why would I fight for him to turn into a cold, heartless man?" Eva said back. Magnus smirked.

"The Night Court," Magnus said. "That's where he'd be going. The Night Court. He's the mate of The Morrigan. He's known it since the moment he met her."

~*~ discidum ~*~

Running was his only option. If he had to choose between being a coward to his mate, or being a coward to his nation, he would pick being a coward to his mate. Because in the end, she wouldn't want him anyways.

"That's not funny." The words were barely audible. The twinkle in her eyes disappeared and her voice choked when it came out. The brokenness, the brokenness that they both shared, was showing. She looked like he had slapped her. While Rhysand held her mixed gaze of anger and pain, Eris began inching towards the exit.

"You don't believe me?" Rhysand asked, his eyebrows rising. Eris was curious about the same thing. Five hundred years of friendship, of their so-called family, and she questioned his honesty? But those were the only words that were needed for Mor to take a step towards him.

"You really want me to go home that bad? That you'd compare my mate to that scumbag? You'd use my trauma as a way to manipulate me?" Mor said, her words firing at him like canons. "Go screw yourself, Rhys." Rhys blinked, as if the words had actually punctured him.

"I am not comparing him. I'm telling you he _is_ -"

"I was always there for you, for everything. Even when Feyre was in love to the worst man-"

"Second worst," Rhysand corrected quickly. Her words, bringing his own mate into the conversation, didn't seem to waver him in the least. "The worst is Eris, Mor." Mor had become angry right when Rhysand walked in. Clearly, she was already mad at him about something else. He didn't know what was going on between them, and maybe on the average day he would be curious, but he knew it was probably far more complicated for him to understand.

"Are you lying to me because of Azriel? Because I've been thinking about him every second since we walked into this dump. Every single second. You don't think I'm not considering his feelings? You don't think, just knowing that I have a mate, isn't breaking me?" Eris inched closer to the exit. Rhysand hadn't even noticed.

"I would never hold you accountable for Azriel's feelings. I knew there was something stopping you from loving him. I'm not completely oblivious, Mor. I just want you to be happy." Eris had made it two feet. While that didn't seem like an accomplishment, saying as he was trying to sneak around the most powerful man in the world he was doing damn well.

"Then leave me be," Mor said quietly. Her eyes fell to the floor. "You have hurt me enough for one day." Rhysand hesitated. Quickly, Eris stepped another foot to the door.

"If…" Rhysand paused for a moment. "If Amarantha was my mate, and I was too in denial to know it, you would tell me." Her eyes shot up. She looked livid.

"Now you're comparing _me_ to _her_?" Her voice choked so hard that Eris winced. Rhysand took a step towards her, letting out his hands sympathetically.

"Fuck no," Rhysand said, and Eris heard anger dip into his voice. "I'm just saying that sometimes good people mate with bad people. Sometimes people mate with people who they can't love. It happens." Eris took another step.

"And because it's me, you just jump to that conclusion? Because nobody could ever love me." Eris wasn't looking at her, but he knew she was crying. "Nobody could love Mor, because if someone loved Mor than we wouldn't be able to use her so damn much." Eris took two large steps. He was only a few feet away from the line now. He wasn't sure how he'd get past it – he was hoping that possibly Rhysand had put down the shield.

"Is that what you think?" Rhysand said softly. "I know I've been bad to you these past few days, but you're far from unlovable, Mor." Mor was quiet. Too quiet. She was finally calming down now. Like the rationality appeared in her head, that Rhysand wouldn't lie about this.

"We all broke, and you didn't care about anyone but her," Mor said quietly. "Five hundred years, and you only cared about Feyre. I know you love her, but we're important too." Rhysand nodded. His eyes looked watery.

"I know," he said, just as quiet. "And I was broken too. But now I'm awake, and so are you. We're all awake. Can we please finish this so we can make it back to their wedding?" She took a breath. There were things that she wanted to say, that were clearly unsaid. But he was right, at least – they still were on a mission.

"Whoever told you that information, about Eris, lied to you. It's just a distraction, Rhys. They were trying to shatter us one by one. And honestly, I really don't care who is under there. But I know it's not Eris. I know Magnus is a liar," Mor said, nodding toward Eris. They hadn't even noticed he moved. It was crazy – absolutely insane.

"You don't even want to know who he is? Just to make sure?" Rhysand asked, all the words released in one breath. Mor shook her head tiredly.

"I won't be like my mother. I won't let temptation of a _possible_ mate destroy my life," Mor said. "Forget about him. I don't even feel anything when I look at him. Can't that mean it's fake? That this is a trap? That he's not my mate, or Eris, or anyone who matters?" Rhysand stammered. Clearly, he hadn't thought about that. He hadn't considered the fact that maybe it was all a lie. He had so much faith in himself that he hadn't even thought that maybe Eris wasn't her mate, and that he was wrong.

"You don't feel a damn thing?" Rhysand asked, only to reassure himself. It was the only words he needed to say. Mor looked at him, her chin tilted upward.

"No, I don't." Eris snorted at her retort. Both Mor and Rhysand swung around quickly. Clearly, they had forgotten he was even there.

"What's so funny?" Mor asked. Her voice was filled with venom. He should've been afraid, and if these last few days hadn't occurred, he might have been. But he had lost his sanity, along with his land and his mother and his brothers. He had lost his luxuries, his happiness, his hope. He had lost _everything_.

"When we spoke, before anyone accused me of being anything, for the first time in five hundred years, you felt like you weren't fighting to prove something," Eris snarled suddenly. "Don't lie to him. Don't lie to _me_. We're two opposite sides of the same fucking coin, Morrigan. Don't act like you're some superior, righteous person. We both have a demon inside of us, and who fucking cares? The passion inside you, that chaotic good, is going to consume you if you don't release it. So burn down the Hewn City because it _is_ evil. Don't feel guilty when you walk away from that spymaster who loves you so desperately because your happiness is just as important as his. Fall in love with a woman, fall in love with a man, fall in love with _both_. And stop acting like the things that people have done, including what I have done to you, didn't make you free of all the chains you were born with." And he realized, as the words fell from his mouth, that he did know how she felt when she looked at him. People had told her her entire life that she didn't have to be angry anymore. That she was superior now, so she could let go of her pain and rage and fury. Her family never truly understood why she would bother keeping those negative feelings, so she hid it. But Eris was the exception. When she looked at him, she still felt wrath. He was living proof that those feelings still existed, that she could still feel so deeply. And with him, only him, she let everybody see it.

Their connection wasn't love or goodness or filling in the wounds they both carried. It was anger and pain and fire.

"On the contrary, _Eris_ , I don't think she hides her anger at all." He hadn't noticed that the outside of his body had dissolved. He never felt the outer layer, the layer that hid his identity, had disappeared. The fire that was burning inside him must have burned it away, just like it burned everything else.

He looked down briefly, taking in that he was now the red-headed boy that she hated so bitterly. That he could no longer pretend to be someone else. And he wished that he cared. He was inches from the line, and he wished that he could take their moment of shock to run. But he didn't. Instead, he looked up at Mor. A tear, one single tear, was rolling down her cheek. But it wasn't out of sadness of sorrow. It was a tear made of anger.

"Now, go ahead and kill me," he said, taking a large breath. "The cauldron knows I deserve it."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"They're going to kill him." They could never love each other – Eris and Morrigan. On the contrary, now he was a target to multiple courts. She wouldn't blame them if they saw him as a potential issue. What if he walks into the Hewn City and demands to be treated like a king simply because he is the mate of The Morrigan? He could build an army. Surely, the invincible Night Court was more tempting than the broken Autumn Court.

"There are traditional Night Court generals that will follow your son simply because he has a penis and is mated with one of their highest leaders. They will see him as a leader, as someone who could take over Rhysand's circle," Magnus said, adding to her thoughts. "He's not just a threat, dear Eva, he is a legitimate issue." She wouldn't blame them. She was sure the only reason that Lucien was accepted by their people was because he was an outcast of the Autumn Court. Eris, on the other hand, is practically a symbol of what the Autumn Court once was.

"What do you expect me to do, then? You don't want Eris, but you're saying he's not safe alone," Eva snarled impatiently. He shrugged lightly, as if they weren't talking about someone's life but something far more arbitraury.

"Maybe they won't go after them if you're my High Lady," He offered. "After all, you can declare war. And nobody would want that." He had a smirk on his lips. She wanted to wipe it off with one slap, but she restrained herself.

"Rhysand is a reasonable man. I don't need a crown. I-I can just make a bargain. Eris doesn't want anything to do with her anyways. He-"

"On the contrary, they're alone right now. Him, her, and Rhysand," Magnus corrected, taking a lethal step towards her. "You're running out of time. He could kill him any second. What are you going to do?" His hand was on her face. A small stroke of her cheek.

"For one, I'm not going to be coerced into being someone's wife," she snapped. "You're going to have to do-" The doors fell to the ground. She spun towards them but Magnus gripped her waist tightly, stopping her from taking a step forward. A wave of dust circled the room, but when she saw the bright light walk through the dust, she exhaled.

It was Helion. And he was livid.

"Get out." The two words were crisp and harsh, and his voice, which hadn't even risen, could be heard perfectly from where she stood. Magnus's smirk lengthened.

"I'm not done yet," he said. "I still have a few things to say." Helion's face tightened.

"From the look on her face, she's done hearing words fall from your slithering mouth," Helion retorted. "To be precise, we all are. Now, your friends have been excused from my castle, given a few casualties. I'd suggest you go before this turns into a bloody bath." Magnus's jaw clenched.

"Rhysand won't like that."

"Rhysand has been gone for over a half an hour. I'll take that as his leave of absence," Helion said fast. Magnus snorted.

"Is this how you all handle everything? Refusing to mind your own damn business?" Magnus said back. "No wonder the other courts are hanging on shreds." Helion's eyebrows rose.

"If hanging on shreds means having the best economy in Prythian, I'll take it," Helion said with a cold laugh. "Now, if you would please." This time, he wasn't talking to Magnus. Instead, she saw shadows begin to crowd behind Helion. It was his men – probably eight or nine, each carrying weapons. As Helion strode forward calmly, the men marched behind him. Magnus's chin lifted.

"You think those men are going to help save your girlfriend?" Magnus said. A golden sphere formed into Helion's hand, spinning fast.

"One against ten? If you're going to be a High Lord, you've already got the ego for it. Men, kill him." Except the men didn't run towards Magnus. They didn't even so much as look at him. Instead, they turned towards Helion, and fire flew from their palms.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Do you really think you deserve that?" Her voice was so casual that he nearly flinched. Her tear had been wiped away and now he wondered how, the girl who was born in hell, could live with all of those monsters who stayed alive. All of the people who have wronged her and now that she had full ability to end them, why didn't she? And perhaps the reason was because death was too merciful.

"It's not about deserve," Eris drawled. "It's about closure. And frankly, I now have my closure. My purpose on this planet is over. You have your answer now, Mor. You win." Rhysand's eyes were blazing. He was calm, relaxed, but his eyes were still blazing.

"He has a point," Rhysand said slowly. "It's not like he'll be missed." He was referring to Lucien now, the estranged brother that probably would celebrate his death rather than mourn it. Eris's eyes narrowed.

"No, he wouldn't, but we came here for a reason. And he wasn-" and then there was a scream. Both Rhysand and Mor rushed to the window that overlooked one of the room. Eris peaked around them too, and he let out a shaky exhale. It was the room his mother was in. There was fire going off in all directions and Eris couldn't entirely see what was going on. It was an entire mess. But as he looked closer, and the seconds ticked, he realized it had to have been an ambush.

They were wearing Helion's colors, but those were not Helion's men.

"They have fire. They're Autumn Court elites," Eris said aloud. Both Rhysand and Mor turned around, looking at him quickly.

"Shit, we have to get down there," Rhysand said. "We don't have time to run. Hold onto me." Eris grabbed Rhysand just as Rhysand put his arm around Mor. He wasn't sure if the invitation was towards him, but he needed to get down there as well. That was his mother.

He took a step with them, slipping into the darkness, but when they walked out into the other side, he found himself in a corner. He was right – there was fire in all directions. The men who ambushed them couldn't just use fire, they were masters at it. It was illegal under his father's rule, but they probably spent years mastering how to form it underground. They looked almost as good as him.

Helion was fighting all of the soldiers at the same time with his blinding waves of light. Through the streams of fire, Eris could see Helion wobbling. Eris's eyes stretched out, searching for his mother desperately. _Where was she_? But his eyes found her just when Rhysand did. His mother was being held by Magnus, who was inching towards the door carefully.

"I got him," Rhysand hissed to Mor. "Go save Helion." Rhysand started towards Magnus, his eyes sharp as a hawk and was clearly using his mind to break through the shields Magnus had created. There was no doubt that Magnus was mastery at hiding his thoughts, at blocking the power of the mind. It was the one thing that Rhysand would struggle to break – even the most powerful man in the world would struggle to break through those boundaries. He would do it, but it would take minutes.

Eris and Mor started toward the warriors. Mor swung a dagger towards them, while Eris beamed his own fire. Half of them turned towards the both of them and Mor got one soldier down in one hit. Eris's stream of fire flung one of them back, making them slide against the hard marble. When they realized that their streams of fire were weaker than Eris's, and that Mor had flawless aim, their hands began to twist together.

"Oh, fuck," he said aloud. "Mor, dodge it. Don't-" Their hands made a fireball. It was only four or five feet wide, but it was fast and furious. Quickly, the warriors flung the first one at Mor. Mor broke the fireball in half by throwing a dagger into the middle of it, ignoring him entirely. The next one, which was aimed at him only a second later, Eris flung back with his fire. But the fireballs were incredible – they weren't like a stream of fire, they were stronger. They were hard to break. He knew how to make them as well, but it took years to learn how to shape a fireball like that. Four, five, six of them flung into the air sporadically, and Mor and him flung them back as well as they could.

The next fireball wasn't even made of fire. It was made of suffocating smoke, circling together tightly. Eris saw Mor's eyebrows furrow down for just a second as Eris was busy hitting a fireball like it was a play toy. As the smoke flung towards her, and she realized her next dagger wouldn't break it, she took Eris's advice. She moved faster than Eris could fathom, twisting around sharply and letting the ball collide into the wall. Though it was only a tight ball of smoke, it caused a burning dent on the wall. Mor staggered on her feet, coughing.

Eris deflected another fireball as Mor struggled to recover. When the soldiers realized that the fireballs weren't an issue for him, they stopped for a moment. He spun, making three large streams of fire. Multiple soldiers fell to the ground, screaming as Eris began to strut towards them. He thought all of them were down – that they won against Magnus. But then he realized they were huddling closer, their hands all working together to make something.

"Stand down!" Eris demanded. But then they all rose together, holding something that made his stomach churn.

" _No._ "

It flew over his head before he could stop it.

The final hurling ball was a weapon rarely seen. It was a sphere of fire _and_ smoke, circling around each other violently. Probably ten or fifteen feet wide. Around the sphere, air whistled around it quickly, making it catch speed as it flew towards her. Rhysand was busy – he was still trying to break through Magnus's shields. He wasn't even paying attention to the flaming monster that was flying towards Mor. She froze suddenly, watching as the fireball grew closer to her. Watching as she realized she couldn't deflect it, that it was a something beyond any magic that Rhysand could make or any energy that she could break. She wouldn't be able to dodge it, she wouldn't be able to fight it. And she knew it.

Eris screamed. He roared Mor's name, hoping to get Rhysand's attention. Because surely, the most powerful man on the planet could save her. But Mor closed her eyes in surrender, the ball only a few feet away from her now. But then Eris skidded towards her and tackled her to the ground. He nailed her against the marble floor, and enfolded into the sphere of flames. He made sure every inch of him covered her body – not even bothering to look at the heatwaves that wrapped around him. Because he had a rare power as well _. He was fire proof_. It was a rare delicacy in his family line, and he had found it early in life. He couldn't be lit on fire, he couldn't be burned.

He inhaled the fire, letting it sink into his body. He absorbed the sphere in one deep breath. When the flames disappeared around them, and the smoke began to clear, there was silence. Cruel, uneasy silence. And he was too terrified to move. His hands clasped around her body tightly, counting the seconds of silence.

"We're done here," a silky voice rang. Eris squinted. Between the waves of darkness, he saw Magnus lingering with his mother in his grip. Rhysand was staggering upward weakly. Eris hadn't realized how close Rhysand was to them, how he was only six or seven feet away. Quietly, sneakily, Eris rose up, scooping Mor into his arms. He couldn't help but look down at her. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed sleepily. There was no sign that she had almost been burned alive and met eyes with death. There was no sign that anything could have ever been wrong, almost as if she was simply sleeping safely and tranquilly.

"Kill them." The voice was distant. Surely, it was Magnus's words, but Eris's arms were around Mor securely. They would have to get through him first. And whatever fire Magnus's disciples could make, didn't scare him. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. He was immune to fire.

But then he felt nails dig into his neck painfully and his arms tightened around Mor as he was dragged forward by the unknown hand. He screeched loudly, trying his best to yank away, but with one step everything disappeared. A coldness chilled throughout his body and an uneasy feeling stirred into his stomach as he suddenly felt like he was free falling. It hadn't occurred to him until he took a second step into the darkness that he was winnowing. Winnowing, with Rhysand pulling him through. Winnowing away from the Day Court, away from his mother, away from Magnus. From his crown.

~*~ discidium ~*~

He fell to the ground almost immediately. He wasn't able to digest what was around them – that they weren't, in fact, in the Night Court. That it was too sunny, too light, for it to be the Night Court. The building was too tall and skinny, and looked more like the my-dad-is-rich, rather than High Lord of the Night Court. All he saw was Mor and laying her on the ground flatly. He was on his knees, his body touching hers. His eyes ran down her quickly.

"Something is wrong," he whispered, as tunnel vision took over his sight. "I can feel it. Something is wrong. Something is wrong!" He hasn't realized that there was a crowd.

"It was the first place I thought of. I'm sorry if now, I put you all at risk," Rhysand mumbled aloud, clearly to someone else. "But-" His voice stopped. And then he realized that Mor's chest was stagnant. Stagnant, meaning her chest wasn't moving. Meaning-

"She's not breathing!" Rhysand roared suddenly, as if he was following Eris's thoughts. "Amren-" But then Eris hurled himself on top of her. _No_ , Eris thought, _she can't be dead._

" _I won't allow it_. One!" Without him even thinking, he brought his hands down to her chest and pumped the place above her lungs with great force.

"Don't. Let him do it, Rhys." A voice hissed. Thinner, sudden, like a viper. He didn't turn towards the voice. He didn't care who it was, he just cared about her. He needed so much in this world, but he needed her more. Out of everything, he needed her alive.

"Breathe," Eris begged. "Four, five..."

"She's not breathing…" _Six, seven, eight_ … "She's not breathing." _Seventeen…eighteen…nineteen_ "…Breathe. Fucking breathe, you bitch…" _Twenty-seven, twenty eight, twenty nine_ – he brought his lips down to hers, giving her one breath of air.

 _One, two…_

"No! Get off of her!" A thicker voice demanded, nearly making Eris lose his beat. As Eris continued stubbornly, hair began to rise up in the back of his neck and shadows danced in his peripheral vision. But his hands kept beating on her chest, only allowing the numbers to consume his thoughts.

"Cassian, stay- _Don't touch him, Azriel_! He's saving her."

 _Thirteen, fourteen…_

"What is he doing?" He recognized that voice. Feminine, but stern.

 _Twenty-one, twenty-two_ …

"It's a human technique," the thinner voice responded. "I haven't seen anyone use it in eons." Tears were forming in his eyes. Dripping down his face, falling onto Mor's cheeks.

"Oh, Cauldron…Rhysand, how long have you known?" The feminine voice asked.

"Not until now, Feyre," Rhysand said softly. So, very softly. "This-this isn't working, Amren! Do something." But Eris didn't hear any movement when he dipped down the second time, releasing air into her mouth.

"Would-" He dipped down and gave her a breath. "You." One pump. "Fucking." _Two._ "Breath!" Three.

He heard a whistling sound come from her mouth. She took a breath, all by herself. It was more of a cough, to be frank, but it was enough. It was enough for his eyes to widen, enough for him to scramble off of her and watch at a distance on all fours. It was enough for her family to crowd around her, while one of the members declared her alive. He was shaking. He felt like he was going to puke. He wiped his eyes hurriedly.

"Is she going to be okay?" He hadn't realized he was the one to say it out loud. He finally was able to look around him – at the unfamiliar place and a building he had never imagined. He was used to large mansions, but not this. It was plain but it was nice. The light that shone through the window was different than any light he had ever seen. And her family all swung around to face him all at once. Amren, the scary little one, was closest to him and was looking at him with a curious look. Too curious. Azriel hissed at him as he hovered over Mor, his hands glued to her body. Eris wondered if the spymaster would ever leave her body again. Cassian was facing him, his body as still as a rock and as straight as a soldier, with his meaty fists in tight balls. Feyre wasn't as angry as the rest, but she still wasn't forgiving. Rhysand's eyes jumped from her to him quickly, as if allowing her to be the first one to speak if she wanted to, but she had no desire to talk to the High Lord of Autumn.

"She's fine. Thanks to you." Despite the heroism, Rhysand didn't say it as if it was a good thing. "I guess now we have to keep you."

~*~ discidium ~*~*

It was shorter than I expected, which I'm sorry for that. Give me reviews, if you would. It took me a while to write it.


	6. Chapter 6

He always thought he'd die rapidly. Even if he was in old age, resting on his throne, he always believed he would be murdered with one whip of a knife, or a moment-long heart attack in the middle of his sleep. Not this. Not sitting in Rhysand's home endlessly, on a soft bed, counting the painted stars on the ceiling over and over. He had already spent the last countless hours pacing around the round room, along with staring off the balcony at a city that was too beautiful to be real. He had already gone through his hours of fury. That Rhysand's home could be this beautiful, while his court was rotting to the ground. And as he grew angrier, and the hours kept lengthening, he questioned why Rhysand had placed him in such a beautiful room, overlooking a majestic city that he was never meant to look at. Because, surely, Rhysand would never let him leave now that he knew how perfect his beloved city truly was. For whatever reason, Rhysand didn't feel like he needed to hide it from him. And that terrified him.

"Hello." Eris jumped off the bed so rapidly that he was dizzy when his eyes found his younger brother. He inhaled sharply. He knew he was here, lurking in the townhouse, but he hadn't expected him to visit. His eyes went up and down him slowly, taking in the sudden change. He was dressed in black – leather pants, a black sleeveless tunic, with obsidian bracelets and dark hiking boots. His hiking boots had razor-sharp silver spikes at the top and looked more expensive than Eris would ever be able to afford, High Lord or not.

"Well, well, well, isn't it little Lucien, cowering in his mate's utopia as his land is pillaged and destroyed," Eris muttered dryly. Lucien's jaw clenched. A year ago, those words would've caused Lucien to attack him, but he barely twitched. He was leaning against the doorway casually, one of his eyebrows perked up in mild interest.

"The door is wide open, Eris," Lucien said, a smirk on his lips as a gestured to the open doorway. "Go on. Nobody is keeping you hostage." And maybe, technically, they weren't. But he knew that once he stepped through that door, he was a goner. Rhysand would never let him leave that place alive. At least not now, when their relationship was so fragile.

"You're not even going to ask about her?" Lucien coaxed after a long moment. He almost sounded marveled by Eris's disinterest. Eris snorted.

"About what, Lucien?" Eris retorted, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "About your mate?" He had turned away from him, pacing towards the balcony again, unable to meet Lucien's eyes.

"No. Morrigan," Lucien emphasized cruelly. "Rumor has it that you're _her_ mate." Eris ignored the disgust in Lucien's tone. Lucien said it as if he was accusing him of a war crime, not even considering the possibility that their connection was simply an aberration that he didn't ask for. He closed his eyes, trying to muster a rebuttal, but it was too late. The secret was out. His secret that he had kept for five hundred years was now known to the whole Night Court – maybe even across all of Prythian.

"You knew, didn't you?" Lucien continued, his voice quiet. It felt like the words that had always clouded his head were finally speaking aloud. "You knew, when she came to our castle, bleeding to death, that she was your mate? And you did it anyway…"

"Why did you bother coming over here if you already have your answer?" Eris spat quickly. His arms crossed against his chest tightly. "I'm not like you, Lucien. I'm not willing to destroy my own court over a girl. Forgive me if I have ambitions." When Eris looked behind his shoulder, his face tightened. Lucien looked like Eris had hit him, his face filled with redness and his body standing abnormally still.

"I don't have to justify myself to you," Lucien said, his voice stern. His metallic eye swirled around rapidly, as if debating on whether Eris was worth killing. "Don't compare my sins with yours. Our selfish actions aren't even in the same league." Eris opened his mouth, a cold retort already on his lips, when a new voice interrupted.

"Lucien?" A soft voice chimed. "Ah, there you are. I brought your brother some soup." Before Eris even saw her, Lucien's face lightened. He had never seen Lucien look so happy just by the sound of someone's voice - he had never seen Lucien look so happy about _anything_. But when the small, angel-like girl dipped into the doorway, he had forgotten Eris was there entirely. She was probably a hundred pounds soaking wet, wearing a flowy, white gown and her caramel hair in loose curls. Her brown eyes were so light that they almost looked like a dark gold, and when she turned to look at Eris, he didn't see any judgement. He didn't see any judgement or hatred or anger.

Lucien's eyes followed her as she entered the room bravely, holding two cups of soup. In normal situations he would've declined and declared a hunger strike, but he was so struck by the young girl's courage that he forgot how to decline.

"I heard you haven't ate since you got here last night," the girl said. He was quiet. "I made this for you. I…I think a number of us in this household have learned that not eating doesn't solve anything. And neither does being alone." And there was something about the girl as he stared at her that made him wonder if she had always been this nice, or if it was a gift that she gained from the cauldron. It was evident now that Lucien had only entered the room because he knew that his mate would be coming in as well. Not because he actually cared about his older brother.

"I'll eat it," Eris said, holding the girl's excited gaze. "Only if _he_ leaves." Lucien's eyes narrowed on him warningly, but the girl's smile didn't falter. As the silence lengthened, and Lucien realized that she wouldn't object, he scowled.

"Fine. Only because she spent an hour making it and I actually respect my mate's choices," Lucien growled, not without shooting him a look that meant death if Eris were to harm her. To be fair, Eris was surprised that Lucien didn't fight to stay in the room. But why would he? Even Lucien wasn't oblivious to the fact that Eris had no advantage to causing her harm. "I'll be right downstairs, Elain. Say the word and I'll be here." But Eris didn't tear his eyes away from Lucien until Lucien's shadow disappeared into the hallway. At that moment, he looked back at the girl and grimaced. She looked so… _innocent_. It almost made him feel uncomfortable.

"Take it," she said, her voice soft. He reached for the cup carefully, not daring to look away from her. She, though he knew she could feel the distrust between them, sat on the bed with her own cup of soup and motioned for him to sit next her. With no other choice, he obeyed.

They were quiet for a moment, neither of them touching their soup. Dwelling into the silence. But he couldn't even glance at his soup. He was too unnerved by her – too suspicious.

"You know what I did, don't you?" Eris asked, his eyes narrowing on her. She nodded lightly, a smile still on her face. It almost seemed like she was glowing.

"And you don't care? At all? That I nearly killed your friend out of my own selfish good?" Finally, her smile broke. Her eyes dropped down to the soup, and Eris could feel himself leaning towards her cautiously. Her thumb circled around the cup of soup aimlessly, her eyes falling away. But finally, she spoke.

"When I was a human, I was selfish. Unbelievable selfish. Nobody saw me as selfish because I was nice, decent. But I was horrible. I let my sister struggle every day to keep us alive while I didn't lift a finger. And when my sister left to live with faeries, I let myself be betrothed to a man who would've killed her if he had the chance. All because she was a dauntless woman who would do anything to save us. And even though I didn't know what happened to her, that my memory was wiped by Tamlin and my own sister lived amongst them, I…I don't think it mattered if I knew or not. I would've married him anyway, knowing who my sister is, knowing the atrocities of his values, knowing inside me that he would never change, simply because he made me feel special." She choked for a moment, as if trying to suppress the tears. But he didn't see them – she was stronger than she looked.

"And my sisters, these people, never judged me for it. Instead they felt bad for me, simply because I looked innocent. When really, I was a horrible, horrible person. He could've killed her and I wouldn't have cared because I couldn't think past my own needs." He let out a shallow breath.

"That's not the same as what I did," he said quietly. His words were cold, not broken like hers. But she shook her head, as if he had missed her point entirely.

"It's not about which is worse. It's just…why should you be judged when I wasn't? When I'm _still_ not being held accountable for my actions?" He didn't know the answer to her question. Still, he wondered if she knew the severity of his actions – that almost marrying a man that _could have_ done horrible things to her sister wasn't near as bad as intentionally leaving a dying girl in the middle of the woods. Certainly, there had to be a line when it came to forgiveness.

"Is she okay?" Eris asked quietly. His voice was raspy when he spoke, as if the question, three simple words, were painful to let out. Because she was his secret, his only secret, and he wasn't ready to speak about her. Not yet, at least.

"She's tired," Elain said honestly. "The blast hit her very hard. She's healing, but she's mostly dozing in her bed. The only person who she'll allow in is Rhysand." He blinked.

"I'm surprised. I would have thought she would at least allow the spymaster," Eris said, a hint of bitterness leaking into his words. Whether Elain caught it or not, she didn't react.

"No, because if she saw Azriel she would feel pressured to answer his questions, to confess her own secrets," Elain said, her voice quieter. "Secrets she had kept for the last five hundred years." Eris's lips pursed as he looked at her. The girl, though seemingly harmless, obviously knew more about Mor than most of the household. Whether it was because Mor confessed to her, or because Elain caught on quickly, her ability to keep secrets was admirable.

"If she wants to see you…" Elain said carefully, so very carefully. "If she wants to talk to you, do you want me to bring you to her?" He paused for a moment, unable to look at Elain in the case that disappointment filled her face.

"No," Eris snapped. "There's nothing to talk about."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"No…" Everybody was gone. Everybody. She had watched in slow motion as the High Lord of Night took hold of her last son like a rag doll, and leaving only whispering black shadows behind them. She felt like she wasn't even alive anymore – her body had grown heavy, so very heavy. Like she was a pile of bricks that was close to falling to the hard, marble ground.

But Magnus was holding onto her tightly. His arm was wrapped around her waist, pressing her up against him. If she didn't know how horrible of a person he truly was, she would've thought that he was trying to protect her from hitting the ground. But she could hardly move.

" _Helion_." It took a moment for her to find him, mixed within the scrambling of bodies and choking on the clogged dust that surrounded them. When her eyes found his body, mixed debris and dead men, she lurched forward. His eyes were closed, with blood running down his face.

"You killed him," she heard herself say aloud. It hadn't hit her yet – that he was dead. Gone, before she could even love him. "You-"

"He's not dead," Magnus purred soothingly in her ears. "He's just knocked out. I wouldn't do that to a High Lord. After all, he was just trying to protect you." Her head swung towards him. She was expecting to see coldness, the same coldness that etched across Beron's face for centuries, but she saw warmth. Odd, contradictory, warmth.

"We're going back to the Autumn Court," he said slowly, as if speaking to a scared child. "And I am going to wed you. I am going to wed you and you will be okay. And our family will rule the Autumn Court again." It took everything Eva had to not shrill how an incompetent, obscene moron he truly was. Instead, she allowed her face to harden.

"You can't take me to the Autumn Court," Eva replied, her voice identical. "Helion took a vow." Magnus held her gaze for a moment. The fierce look on his face unraveled.

"A vow? What do you mean a-" But then he noticed Helion's arm. His arm that had a swirling, beautiful tattoo wrapping upward to his elbow. Magnus's eyes widened and his skin paled.

"He made a bargain," Magnus said aloud, his words but a whisper. He looked down at her arm quickly, as if calculating something in his head. "But you don't have a tattoo. You didn't make a bargain." One of Eva's eyebrows went up innocently.

"I have no idea what he promised or who he promised it to," Eva said lightly. _Innocently_. But Magnus's eyes stayed fixated on her arm.

"If this was about you being incapable of stepping into the Autumn Court, about _your_ actions, it would be on your arm. Which means, the bargain was really about him. It wasn't that you couldn't go into the Autumn Court, it was that _he_ couldn't let you go into the Autumn Court. But he's knocked out. He can't stop you from anything right now." Hope began to flood over his face again as he unraveled the riddle, but she smirked.

"But he'll wake up," Eva continued for him. "And when he does, he'll use every man, every spy, and every ally he has, to get me back. So go ahead. Take me back to the Autumn Court. He'll be forced to invade the place if he finds that I was taken there."

He held her gaze tightly.

"If I were to take you back to the Autumn Court, he would have every reason to invade, but if I took you elsewhere, he would have no excuse." Her mouth dried, watching as his calculating eyes scanned her face. As if he was reading the answer right off her.

"I guess then, this means I have to call in a little friend. Don't let go."

She let out a whimper as he pushed into nothingness, away from her world and into another. She always hated winnowing – being between nothing and everything at the same time. But when he pushed her forward, she stumbled upon the blithering light and found herself on the carpet. She looked around, shielding herself from where the light was shining through – a large, mosaic window, vaguely creating the image of blossoming flowers and dancing women by jaggedly arranged colored glass. She heard a stifle around her as the surroundings began to clear. She was in a dining room that was for sure. With large vases carrying the most beautiful flowers and a magnificent table made out of aspen wood. She was entranced by the lingering smell of hibiscus when she met eyes with the man looming over her.

He was still planted in his seat. His blonde hair was straight and gleaming as he looked down at her, tickling the top of his collarbone. He was wearing a light, airy tunic that showed most of his chest, and warrior pants, with a range of knives on his belt. His green eyes flickered down at her, as if mildly curious at the Lady of Autumn's arrival at his feet. She gaped at him, trying to find an excuse, when she noticed he was using his dagger-like nails to butter the croissant in his hand.

" _Tamlin._ "

~*~ discidum ~*~

It didn't occur to him until he snuck downstairs that maybe it hadn't been hours. That maybe Velaris, the beautiful city, was simply on its own schedule. The lights in the sky were different – not daylight, but not night light. He could see stars and the galaxy plainly, with swirls of what looked like dawn. But it wasn't dawn, he knew that at least. And he hadn't slept at all. Maybe Velaris was so foreign, so different in its beauty, that he didn't even know how to live in their time zone. How could he, when he was raised in hell?

After Elain had left him, he was restless. He realized he had stayed in his room obediently only because he was hoping that somebody would rescue him. Preferably his mother, if anyone. Rhysand had a soft spot for women, and he wondered if his mother walked through that doorway, if Rhysand would hand him over peacefully. But clearly, his mother was stuck in the same predicament he was.

The manor – a townhouse, Elain called it, was fitting. Eris never liked the miles-long manor that he was raised in. Everybody was so separated, so distant. It was impossible to be a family when he wouldn't see some of his brothers for days at a time. Of course, he never voiced it to his father whenever his father insisted on doing additional renovations. His mother wouldn't ever object as well, possibly because it meant a decrease in time that she had to spend with her husband. He hadn't realized how abnormal the situation was, and how he longed for something small, until he walked around the town house. There was an oil painting the size of a floor-to-ceiling window of their so-called family, laughing and smiling brightly. Other than that, everything was casual. Normal. Meaning, these people actually wanted to be around each other. And not just for power or training – in front of their fireplace in the living room was a game board and a tray of half-eaten appetizers. There were multiple shoes scurried across the living room. In the den, there were five to six half-painted canvases, some paintings far better than others. As if they had all decided to sit down and paint together.

And voices. Voices coming from the living room, so loud and rough that they hadn't even heard him tip-toeing through the house. He followed the voices carefully, only pausing when he found a nice, close corner to hide behind. They were sitting at a table – Rhysand's entire family. Though they were arguing, it was more like light bickering. Not a violent, dangerous argument that would have occurred in the Autumn Court.

"So, what you're saying is that Magnus isn't a good fit for the crown? That's definite?"

"He's a maniac," Cassian muttered. "We should have scouted further."

"I did," a cold voice interrupted. It brought chills down Eris's back. "For over a year, I scouted, Cassian."

"Nobody is blaming you, Az-"

"You don't need to." It wasn't until the spymaster cut her off did Eris realize that it was Mor who had tried to reassure him. Azriel's voice was filled with pure, raw disappointment. Maybe even shame. To the extent that Eris almost felt the pain in Azriel's voice, as it reminded him how many times he had felt the same exact way.

"It is not your fault," A firm, feminine voice repeated. _Feyre_. "Nobody could have predicted this. It was always a gamble."

"So, let them be," a spiteful voice snapped. It was like hearing sparks spit out of a fire. "It's not even our court. We have enough issues." He recognized the voice vaguely. He guessed it must have been Feyre's second sister – the angry one.

"We promised the mortal lands that we would keep things under control. Who else will do it? I would trust Helion, but if anything, he's the one I'm most worried about. We need to get Emmaline ba-"

"Eva," a voice muttered. "My mother's name is Eva. Not Emmaline." There was a silence.

"Eva," Rhysand repeated, his voice lighter than Eris expected. "Sadly, I think Magnus is right, if anything. Kidnapping her is just another reason for Helion to declare war, _but_ she knows the Autumn Court. She can keep things calm, which also may make Helion hesitant to attack Magnus. I've met the woman. She has a…certain aura. I trust her to keep the Autumn Court in balance, even with Magnus looming. She might be better off there, with him, then here."

"It doesn't matter. If you use their marriage as a way for my mother to remain on the throne, Magnus will have more power than her," Lucien said back, his voice harsh. "There's many loopholes when it comes to the Autumn Court – hell, it was practically created on loopholes. But the one thing that is written in black, large letters is that a woman cannot sit on the throne. She cannot rule without a man. The only reason it's not explicitly against the rules to have a High Lady is because the men who built the Autumn Court couldn't even fathom the idea. So unless you're ready to sell out my mother to a psychopathic criminal, her ruling isn't an option."

"For fuck's sake, why can't we just put Lucien on the throne then?" Nesta snarled loudly. "Why is this even a conversation? It's like choosing what disease we want to plague the world with more – a professional rebel leader controlling a court with the third best military in Prythian or the asshat that tortured his own mate for five hundred years for shits and giggles." There was a hiss across the table, and it wasn't by Mor. Eris heard a ripple of bodies, but none of them said a word. There was a deep silence, probably ten to fifteen seconds, but when the next voice spoke, Eris's jaw tensed.

"You want to kill him, Nesta? Go ahead," Mor said lowly. Her voice was far from warm. Clearly, she wasn't having a good day. "But don't you _ever_ associate him with me." Nothing in the house moved, but he could've sworn that after Mor's threat, the whole house stifled. It was like a brush of ice-cold wind swept in and made him lurch back. He never knew what power Feyre's sisters had, but clearly they were just as powerful as the rest.

"Careful," Rhysand said to both of them, his voice soft but firm. "I don't want to lose half of my house." Someone cleared their throat loudly.

"I think, what my precious fiancée was trying to convey was that, no matter Lucien's parentage, it could probably fly," Cassian interrupted, ignoring Nesta's low growl. "Nobody will notice if he's the rightful heir as long as he can play the part. I mean, come on, it's the _Autumn Court_. Nobody will even look twice." Eris tilted back with a jolt. _So he knows he's Helion's son_. And he hadn't confronted anyone about it.

" _That_ was my original plan, but at this point, after what just happened, nobody would believe it," Rhysand said tiredly. "People will be skeptical at the crowning ceremony. I thought it would probably work if we say that the crowning ceremony happened elsewhere, but now that people are assuming that Eris is still alive…nobody would believe it. People feel it when a High Lord enters the room. Even in that pathetic hell-hole."

"And I don't want it if there's another option," Lucien added quickly. "The Autumn Court is not my home. It never has been and never was."

"Then what do we do?" Feyre said, exasperated. "Do we let him have Eva and trust that she'll take charge of the Autumn Court and save thousands of starving commoners, or do we steal her back for Helion's sake and let her live in peace in the Day Court?" Clearly, they were taking a vote. He inched back, knowing already what they would vote for, but then he felt a chill go down his neck.

"If you're going to take a vote, at least include the person who took the time to eavesdrop." Eris whirled around sharply, facing the little one that had always terrified him. Amren. Apparently, she hadn't been at the table. His eyes were round and wide. Normally, he would've had a cold remark, but he couldn't speak. There was no monster in her anymore, but she still had a terrifying gleam about her.

She pushed him lightly, and he fumbled back as if a snake had tried to bite him.

His eyes avoided Mor's gaze.

"Actually, we were going to talk about the predicament concerning you next," Rhysand replied easily, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. "But go on, since you're already in here."

"You were going to kill the rightful High Lord of Autumn?"

"Eris, you have no idea how replaceable you are." His words, now dead serious and without mirth, hung in the air for a moment. Eris could finally hear the anger, the disgust that now leaked out of Rhysand's tone. Despite Rhysand's tricks and games, Eris truly believed that his existence was on the table. Not just his position as High Lord, but his cold, beating heart. Why wouldn't it? He saw Rhysand's forbidden, sacred city. He had mocked, humiliated, and manipulated his best friend for five hundred years. Eris's death warrant was practically already signed.

"We made a deal, Rhysand." Eris's eyes hung onto his tightly. Rhysand sat up slowly, the whisps of blackness that swarmed his body, thickening. But Eris wasn't afraid of him. If anything, he realized that he didn't have anything to lose. There was even a point in the last twenty-four hours that he welcomed death with open arms, because he realized that he only had a few things worth living for, and if he couldn't get those then he didn't want to live at all.

"There's only a deal if I say there's a deal," Rhysand said through his clenched teeth, letting out a barked-like laugh. Eris, at that moment, could see the natural-born warrior that hid underneath Rhysand's skin. The man who would be just as successful on a battlefield as he was in politics. Even if Rhysand wasn't High Lord, he would still have enormous power. He would still be more terrifying than any of the other High Lords. "You brought your father on that battlefield at the last fucking moment. And, if you've failed to remember, your only _request_ was for your father to die. You got what you wanted. I owe you nothing." Eris's lips pursed.

"My mother did nothing to you. _Nothing_. But why would the Night Court care, right? It's just another casualty. As long as your city is beautiful and safe, fuck the rest of the world. Who cares about the unneeded death and slaughter and misery?" His eyes found Feyre now. She was extremely still. Her body was upright, her hazel eyes darker than he had ever seen. She looked like she was ready to kill him – murder him with her own hands. And Rhysand, being her equal, would probably let her.

"Don't talk to me about death and slaughter when I nearly had to beg you to get on that battlefield," Feyre said, her voice sharp but low. "When _you_ were ready to let all those mortals die." He swallowed.

"I wouldn't have," Eris said quietly. And this time, he was honest. More honest than he cared to admit. "You know I wouldn't have." He finally dared to look at The Morrigan. Looked dead at her, as her brown eyes nailed on him. She looked like she hadn't even blinked since he walked into the room. Unlike the rest of the group, who obviously were debating on killing him, he couldn't read her face. It was a mix of pain and anger and curiosity. As if she was tracing back every moment in the last five hundred years, just to justify that he was a horrible person.

"You visited me in your dreams. You were there. You saw me betray my father's demands, you saw me trying to find a way out of that castle," Eris said, his voice shivering now. "And, for just a moment, when I looked into the pitch black shadows before I was about to jump out of my bedroom window, I saw you looking dead at me. You stopped me because you saw Tamlin's men outside my tower. They would've probably thought I was trying to attack them if I jumped. You saved my life." Everybody turned to look at her. She didn't meet their eyes. None of them looked judgmental, but instead in shock. She didn't even breathe. But he noticed how her hands clutched the arms of her chair tightly.

"I thought you were a mortal who was getting attacked by the king's army," Mor replied coldly. "I didn't see your face. I couldn't see anyone's face. I just saw a man running, with a small army waiting outside his home. If I had known it was you, I would've let you die."

"I know," Eris said, his voice oddly quiet. "But you didn't, and without me-"

"Without Tamlin," Cassian interrupted briskly. "Tamlin, as you just pointed out, was the one who persuaded your father. Not you. _You_ owe _us_." Eris's eyebrows rose.

"Fine. Send me Tamlin's way then – his useless ass would be more productive to work with than any of yours," Eris snarled. None of them seemed to care. If anything, he was just an annoying pest that kept squeaking at them.

"That," Rhysand said slowly, pointing at him as he spoke to the rest of the table, " _That_ is an option."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Eva laughed. It was humorous, really, that the High Lord of Spring was in her presence now. What had it been? Less than seventy-two hours and now, four of the courts in Prythian were a part of this conflict? She had spent so many years locked in her estate, withering away, that she never imagined that _she_ could cause such trouble. Beron would've died just at the thought.

"No." He said it immediately, before Magnus even opened his mouth. There was no humor flashing across his face like it was hers, nor anger like it was Magnus's. It was nothing – just a short _no_. Almost like he knew it was coming, he knew of the conflict already, he knew Magnus would come to him, and he wanted nothing of it.

" _No_?" Magnus repeated, his face rippling. "Tamlin-"

"Send her back to Helion's palace," Tamlin snarled suddenly. "And retreat to your hell hole. That is my advice. That is all I have to say." Eva took Mangus's moment of stammering to look around. The Spring Court was pretty – not beautiful, not amazing, _pretty_. Like a less overwhelming version of the Day Court, with a magnificent garden and light, comforting colors lighting up the dining room. Tamlin was still buttering his croissant stubbornly when Magnus and she scrambled off the floral carpet.

"Tamlin-"

"Or go anywhere, really, I don't really care," Tamlin continued, shrugging. "But Magnus, I am in a good mood. Nobody is bothering me, my court is flourishing, and my tomatoes are growing better than ever. Which means I'll forgive you for breaking into my court illegally while holding captive another High Lord's lover and conspiring horrible atrocities against your own people if you leave right _now_." Despite the long threat, Tamlin was far more casual than the Tamlin she knew. The previous one seemed stiff, territorial, while this one just wanted some peace and quiet. Like he had officially retired from his stiff throne and he wasn't planning on taking any unnecessary risks anytime soon.

"But, Tamlin, we are both victims of the same curse. Your dearest love had a tattoo that ruined her life. My love-"

"We are not the same," Tamlin snarled suddenly. He showed his clenched fangs. "Don't you _dare_ compare us." It was enough to silence Magnus. Tamlin's face was red with anger, and half of his body was leaning out of his chair. But Eva only blinked at him. While he responded sharply, she was surprised that broken glass hadn't rained down on them that he hadn't rippled into a full-blown beast. She was surprised that Tamlin bared even moved.

"You've changed since the war," Eva said aloud. Tamlin's head went towards her sharply. His face tightened as he finally took her in as well – the Lady of Autumn who was now wearing the clothes of Day. He held her gaze warningly but when she didn't cower back, he gave a cold, low chuckle.

"Yes, Lady Eva, it's like I've turned a new leaf," Tamlin joked lightly, though there was a hint of mockery in his tone. Still, she blinked at him. _Did the High Lord of Spring just try making a joke_? "You have surprised me as well." Though the words were harmless, the tone was cold as ice. Like a bitterness, a spiteful anger, seeped into his words.

"My husband is dead," Eva said, her voice low. "I had no choice but to run to the Day Court." Tamlin's eyebrows raised.

"And, in doing so, you have put another name on the list of courts who have let Rhysand do whatever the hell he wants," Tamlin countered coolly. "But he will not touch mine." _Again_ , Eva added. Because out of all of them, Rhysand touched the Spring Court the most. The Spring Court, if anybody, was more controlled by the Night Court than anyone.

"I'm sorry," Eva whispered. Tamlin's fierce look broke, one of his eyebrows elevating slowly at her.

"For what?" He asked flatly.

"I didn't feel bad for you. And I still don't, but I understand now," Eva said. Slowly, Tamlin's face grew colder and colder. "It must have been awful to have your court tainted by him – taking away all that you had left." The end of her sentence was filled with bitterness, holding a slight bite.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, quieter. When he held her gaze, it seemed like he was looking a million miles away.

"I need you to keep her until further notice," Magnus interrupted, not before clearing his throat loudly. Eva swung around and shot Magnus a wild look. Keep her? He made it sound like she was a pet that needed be watched. "Don't be a part of fixing her curse – fine. But this is neutral territory. If they find that she is here, they won't invade."

Tamlin rose from his chair.

"I am not a babysitter, Magnus," Tamlin hissed. "And I'm sure as hell not going to put my court in danger because the Spring Court is so-called 'neutral territory'. I have no desire to help you and your runts take over the Autumn Court."

"I helped you get into the Autumn Court," Magnus said through his clenched teeth. "Let's not forget that, Tamlin. If it weren't for me, and my _runts_ , you would've never gotten to Beron and convinced him to fight." Tamlin's mouth closed shut tightly.

"Most of those Autumn Court men who bled and died were my men. Beron was just too stupid to notice," Magnus spat. "The Autumn Court did nothing. The Autumn Rebels saved your ass."

"Don't speak to me like that in my own home," Tamlin said, each word filled with venom.

"You owe me, Tamlin. And, you really aren't helping me do anything. You're merely letting me walk through your territory because you have no intention in being a part of this fight. You're just being peaceful," Magnus proposed. Tamlin's glare didn't falter.

"But you aren't trying to walk through my territory. You're trying to live at my estate," Tamlin countered dryly.

"I am not even going to be here," Magnus continued. "Eva is."

"I am _not_ a babysitter."

"And how will the rest of the world see you if they found out I went across your estate, proposed that you gave sweet, lovely Eva refuge, and you declined because of a petty grudge?" Eva blinked. She was surprised how well Magnus could turn the conversation – that he could, somehow, find a way to make himself look right. Tamlin, on the other hand, looked ashen. He was trapped, trapped into this dilemma.

Because no matter what, Rhysand would be at his door sometime. It would be easier to explain that he let them in, made sure Eva was kept unharmed for as long as he could, and let them go peacefully, rather than allowing Magnus to put her through unneeded harm. It would, at least, make him look a bit better. Even if he was still useless.

"I'll allow it," Tamlin said finally. Eva had to stop herself from looking shocked. "But you don't get to stay here. I will not have you on my property. Do what needs to be done, come back, take her, and live out your long life without contacting me, Magnus." Each word was crisp. Carefully contained, but as cold as the Autumn Court itself.

Magnus leaned toward her, kissing her on the cheek quickly. She tripped away from him, cursing as she wiped away the imprint of his lips on her cheek.

"Until I see you again," he purred, before winnowing far, far away.

~*~ discidium ~*~

In the end, they agreed to delay their decision on his mother. Lucien urged them to make a decision immediately, but they had no choice but to wait. They had no idea where his mother was, what Magnus's next plans were, and how far they were willing to go with their plans in the first place. If they took a step now, it would only be a hazard.

"Can I get you anything?" The voice was tense, as if the speaker was unsure if she should be speaking to him. But when Eris turned around and met eyes with the servant – Nuala, they called her – he shook his head.

"Don't bother," Eris hissed coolly. Nuala's jaw tensed.

"The High Lord-"

"The High Lord can kiss my ass." She huffed at this. Even though she was no more than mist and shadow, darkness clouded her face. Clearly, she didn't take people being rude to her High Lord well, either.

"You're hear in good will," she said finally. "He is merciful to let you stay here." Eris's eyes flared. But the misty figure could care less – though she wasn't fae, she was a proud member of the Night Court. She didn't seem like someone who'd normally say something, but it was clear that she hated him. The misty figure was halfway in the wall when Eris replied.

"Is that what you said to Feyre when he humiliated her under the mountain? When he stripped her of her clothing and painted her intimate parts and watched as she slowly faded away?" Nuala wasn't used to other people's retorts – he could tell. Or maybe she wasn't accustomed to conflict in general.

"He did it for us." Eris blinked. _He did it for us._ Nuala took his silence as her moment to disappear, and he knew that she would certainly pass along this conversation to the spymaster, but even once she was gone, he was stuck staring at the wall stupidly. She said it as if every bad thing that Rhysand has done took a piece of his soul, and that it was always a sacrifice. Every monstrous thing, every horrible action, tore him bit by bit but it was _for them_. For his stupid court, for his stupid family. And he would do it over and over until he was nothing.

"You have got be kidding me." Eris spun towards the doorway. He didn't so much as breathe when he met eyes with the opposing figure.

He was shorter than he remembered. But he did look different – his hair was cropped and stuck to his forehead like wet paint, his eyes were like two dark, empty pools of nothingness, he was pale – pale like the corpse he once was.

"They said we hadn't had a proper introduction," the man drawled. "They never said I was stuck with a coward." Eris forced a smirk. Still, he didn't think his people would send a human to get him out of here.

"Jurian," Eris's voice was leaking of arrogance. "As much as I appreciate your help, I'm looking for someone a bit more experienced. No offense, but you can't take on the Night Court – let alone Magnus." There was a beat of silence before the general bursted into cackling laughter, his laughs ringing against the townhouse so suddenly that the townhouse creaked. Eris's smirk collapsed immediately.

"You think I'm here to help _you_?" Jurian sneered. Still, his dark eyes were dancing. "More like I was beckoned over here to pick you the fuck up. Congratulations, dumbass. You've been evicted."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Lock the doors and don't let anyone in _or_ out." At first, Eva was puzzled at who Tamlin was speaking to – the mansion was eerily empty, but then she saw the few sentries form in her view, scrambling to lock everything. She watched as green waves leaked over the mansion, as if it was thick liquid coating the estate. Once the liquid touched the grass, a silver spark flickered and the entire green veil disappeared. Clearly, as Eva met Tamlin's glimmering green eyes, he was doing the magic. He cared to protect his court, his people. Whoever still lived on the grounds, at least.

Despite the Autumn Court's solitude, the rumors of the Spring Court had reached their court as well. The last they heard, the Spring Court was a dump. According to the whispers from spies and gossip from other courts, the palace had been ran over by overgrown vines and not a single light glowed. The population had decreased even more significantly than it had during the war, as many of his people continued to flee. She even heard a rumor that Rhysand frequently walked onto the grounds without an invitation, and Tamlin hadn't even batted an eye.

But the palace seemed…like it was healing. The grass wasn't as green as it once was, there was a slight tint of brown amongst the fields, but green areas were starting to form. The flowers were beginning to bloom, the mansion didn't appear unusually dirty. There was a lack of sentries, and the quietness was unnerving, but even at a distance she saw a few common fae farming on the rolling hills. The palace was once dead, that was certain, but Tamlin was now healing and the Spring Court was bound to heal with him.

"You must help him," Eva said, looking at Tamlin sharply. He blinked at her. "Helion is in trouble. Magnus-"

"Is not my issue," Tamlin finished, following with a snort. "None of this is my issue." She huffed at him.

"What are you _talking_ about? Magnus is going to destroy this entire continent if you-"

"I have formally decided to exclude myself from Prythian politics," Tamlin interjected. "This is as far as I'll go with this…conflict. If you wish to dine with me, you are welcome to do so, though." He gestured to the seat next to him. Her eyebrows went up slowly.

"You have formally excluded yourself from Prythian politics?" Eva repeated slowly. "You run a court! You can't just stop international relations simply so you can grow your- _your_ stupid tomatoes and personal growth! You are a High Lord!" She expected for Tamlin to at least tense up, for his pointed claws to lengthen, but he ignored her banter.

"If I learned anything in the last few months it's that there has to be some change on how I run things," Tamlin countered. "And saying as my…demise…has always been due to international relations, why should I insist on communicating with other courts? Fixing _their_ issues? You'll find that the world is quite prosper when you pretend that the other courts don't exist." The anger roaring inside her lessened. Her eyes lingered outside again, analyzing the healing land. Healing, but not flourishing. Not as rich as the Night Court, or even the Day Court. It is _survivable_ at best.

"Well, then, my stay will not benefit either of us," Eva said highly. "I think, it's in both of our best interests, if you send me back to the Day Court so that I'll be out of your hair." It was at least an attempt to getting Tamlin to let her go. Surely, he would be merciful to her, even if Magnus wouldn't.

"I can't give you back to Helion," Tamlin stated, whilst taking a bite of bacon. "If Magnus does manage to take over the Autumn Court, which there is a grand chance he will, then he would declare me as an enemy of the Autumn Court immediately just for returning you to your love."

"And not helping him now is getting you on his good side?" Eva prodded. Tamlin took a deep breath.

"There is a difference between declaring that you will not take a side and refusing to help him by assisting his enemy," Tamlin explained. "I cannot do it."

"Show me the way, then. I can make it there myself."

"You won't make it," Tamlin answered sharply. "You wouldn't be able to survive the trip on foot. Not unless you winnow, which I assume you can't do." Her eyes narrowed on him. She did, in fact, know how to winnow, but lately her powers had…faded. Her ability to conjure fire had lessened, and she hadn't been able to winnow since her husband had been taken.

"It's because your husband has died. Beron, whether you may like it or not, made you stronger," Tamlin explained impatiently. "And now, without that source…without, Beron…your body is struggling to adjust." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking that in. That she had spent so much of her time with Beron, dedicated her body to him, that now her ability to survive by herself has plummeted.

"So what are you going to do with me?" She whispered.

" _Huh_?" She opened her eyes. He looked like she had just spoken another language.

"Well, what are you going to do with me? You aren't going to help me get to Helion, and I'm going to assume that you have no interest in contacting the Night Court and seeing if they'll take me," Eva muttered. "Magnus is in a coma. What are you going to do with _me_?"

"Nothing. Roam the castle for as long as you need, I'll give you whatever I can to make your stay tolerable, but there are limitations that I can't break," Tamlin said. "I can give you paper and a writing utensil to write to whoever you need to explain the situation. But I cannot assist you. You have to understand that. You're better off staying here. I'll make sure you'll be treated well."

"And if my son comes looking for me? Will you let him in?" Eva asked. Her question was hollow, only because she knew that nobody else would go after her. Only Eris, her last son, would bother going this far to save her.

Tamlin snorted.

"Your son is in the Night Court now, Eva. You don't want him to look for you. He is too far gone." _Gone_. On the contrary, Feyre wasn't so bad. The Night Court didn't make her a worse person. If anything, she became cleverer – stronger. But Eva couldn't argue. The Night Court did in fact change people, they made them turn their back on their families. On their court. It wasn't a secret that everybody in the inner-circle resented their original home. She wouldn't be surprised if Eris turned against his court too, now that he saw how much better the Night Court was.

"How long will I be here? Do you have an estimate to when Magnus will come back?" Eva was expecting to say a few days, a few weeks.

"You aren't a priority to the Night Court. Maybe to Lucien, maybe to Eris, but you aren't an immediate priority to the Night Court's safety. And Magnus? It'll take him a while to accomplish what he wants, and he isn't going to risk your safety before his reign is stable," Tamlin said carefully. "This won't be a fast battle like it was against Hybern. Nobody wants ultimate destruction like Hybern did– Magnus is a threat to the Night Court, but he doesn't plan on striking tomorrow, if ever. Rhysand knows that Magnus is going to build up his resources again. He's going to take his time. Even the Autumn Court isn't in a rush. And, in the end, Rhysand will take as much time as Magnus is willing to give him. You are not in immediate danger." She took a step towards him.

"How long will I be here?" She said again, but this time as a growl. His eyes flashed but he merely gritted his teeth.

"Years…decades," Tamlin said quietly. She almost heard sympathy in his voice. "I'll try to speed this up, Eva, but you forget that we are eternal. Getting rid of Amarantha took forty-nine _years_. It's not like we'll die of old age waiting for this war to begin and end."

~*~ discidum ~*~

"They would have just sent you to the Court of Nightmares if you hadn't tried becoming allies with those morons," Jurian spat at him. "Could you hurry up?" It was hard not to stare at the buzzing city, the beautiful colors, the merry people. Everybody was smiling – and there were children, more children than he had ever seen in one area. The fact that his people could reproduce so easily, so effortlessly, showed how well-off they really were. The average building went up five to six stories, as if the entire city itself was built on prosperity. The common people wore clothes just as fine and rich as his own, and the dazzling apartments were far prettier than anything he had ever lived in. Shops filled with items that would have never sold in the Autumn Court, prospered. This wasn't a city, this was a dream.

"Don't tell me they have a prison here," Eris drawled sarcastically. "It would ruin the aesthetic." Though Eris's words were loud enough for Jurian to hear them, Jurian pretended he hadn't said a word. Instead, he continued to strut in front of him briskly. People glanced at them as they rushed through the streets, taking sharp turns through dark alleys and hissing at each other like bickering siblings.

"Where are we even going?" Eris growled. "If you aren't leading me to my court-" Jurian stopped suddenly, letting out a bark of laughter. Though Eris's facial expression didn't change, his face grew whiter.

"You think I'm going to your court? You think I'm here to take you to the death-ridden, corpse-filled, rotten court? You aren't even leaving Velaris," Jurian chuckled. "You're staying here, working with me." Eris's eyebrows furrowed.

"Working with _you_? While using my skills to assist the Night Court sounds dashing, I think my-" But then Jurian rolled his eyes dramatically, spinning away from him and continuing his brisk pace. Eris let out a groan as he sped up to Jurian hurriedly.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a knot, Eris. You may even enjoy the job," Jurian said, giving a crooked smile. Eris's eyes narrowed on him.

"And why would Rhysand want me to assist in Night Court affairs?" Eris asked. "Unless he's looking for an ambassador from the Autumn Court." Jurian snorted.

"Oh, this isn't Night Court affairs," Jurian corrected. "This is _my_ affair. Rhys's request is far more boring. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me… _changing_ some of your duties if you're quiet about it." Eris didn't even blink at him.

"So, really, Rhysand doesn't know about this at all."

"Nope, and unless you want to be working in the sewers until your hands are covered with so many blisters that you can't count your own fingers, like he originally told me to watch over you at, then I'd take up the offer," Jurian said, his face cold now. "Unless you want to be spending your days six feet under cleaning the city's sewer?" By the look on Eris's face, Jurian already had his answer.

"Good, then you'll keep quiet about this, I suppose. In return, I'll treat you like a normal human being. If not, your stay here in Velaris will go downhill very, very fast and I'll make sure that you spend so much time in the sewers that weeks will go by without seeing the sky." And as Jurian stopped in front of grey building, staring at it like it was his next masterpiece, Eris's eyes ran down him. Jurian was an outsider, just like him. He didn't know what brought Jurian to the city, and why Rhysand was forcing him to be his watchdog, but he knew he'd rather be following Jurian than doing anything in those nasty sewers. He could probably spin this in his advantage. Maybe.

"So what work are we doing, exactly?" Eris asked. And then Jurian smiled like an animal hunting for prey.

~*~ discidium ~*~

He was still as stone. His eyes glossed over her, looking at her head to toe slowly and, for the first time, without constraint. There was nothing not risqué about her – she was wearing a short, dark dress that barely touched the upper half of her thigh, with long, dark heels that could do serious damage if used as a weapon. The dark dress had a deep plunge that didn't end until far past her chest. Her hair was in large, delicate curls and her eyes were glittering against the moonlight that lit up the living area. She was beautiful – absolutely, terrifyingly beautiful. Morrigan was already naturally beautiful, but _this_ was intentional. Deliberate beauty so deep that even if he did actually hate her, he wouldn't be able to deny the attraction that he now felt. He couldn't deny that she was quite possibly the prettiest woman he had ever seen.

It was like a dream, he thought as he fought the feeling to reach for her. To touch her, to seduce her like he had done a million times in his dreams. To run two fingers down her soft skin and make her shiver, while at the same time cocooning her against his body. To feel the warmth underneath her short dress, for her to run burning kisses down his body. To hear her angelic voice moan and beg and plead. For him to feel something, _something_ for the first time in five hundred years. She was really there, in his living room, waiting for him to leave his bedroom in the middle of the night. Without anybody watching, without anybody in earshot, without any witnesses to the sins that he was dying to commit – the secrets that could change everything.

But she was not here to play and this was not a dream.

"Eris," she greeted. He didn't even blink at her as she gave him a small, red-lipped smile. He couldn't take a step towards her. His whole body was too focused on being controlled – trying to silence his desires, even though they were roaring in his mind.

He wanted to be arrogant. He wanted to be so audacious that she couldn't look at him. He _wanted_ her to be disgusted by him, to be repulsed. Just so that she would leave and never, ever come back. But he was so tired. He had lost everything – everything that mattered, and yet he was still being punished. All he could muster was, "Morrigan."

"I see that Rhys has given you a…generous stay," she said carefully, a hiss at the end of her sentence. _Generous_. She wasn't wrong – it was a nice two-bedroom apartment, a kitchen, and a decent view. Though it was probably the worst apartment in the entire city, it was far better than anything in the Autumn Court.

"It's Jurian's apartment, not mine. Don't be silly enough to believe that I'd take anything from you lot," Eris replied impatiently. His eyes fixated on the window stubbornly. "I would think its well past your bedtime, Morrigan. Is there any practical reason why you're lounging here in the middle of the night or is this a new hobby of yours? If it is, I would prefer for you to at least have the courtesy to wear some half-decent clothes. Believe it or not, not every man wants to see _that_." The last part of his comment hung in the air half-heartedly, as if they both knew that he felt quite the opposite. Suddenly, he wished he hadn't pointed out the dress at all. Because just by the look in her eyes, he could tell that she had got what she wanted. To get a rise out of him.

She puckered her lips as she dismissed his comment. Her attention, now disinterested in his presence entirely, focused on her perfectly-colored nails.

"I came here to give you some guidelines for this city." _Finally._ The second shoe was going to drop – he would finally know what the Night Court wanted from him. No more secrets, no more trickery. He would finally know why he was still here, living and breathing.

Suddenly, he was very, very awake.

"Go on," he purred. Her eyes flickered at him.

"You will not leave Jurian's view at all, at any moment during any day. If you do, you're dead," she said slowly. "When the Inner Circle beckons, you go to us immediately. If you don't, you're dead. You are forbidden from speaking to anyone outside the city, or anyone inside the city who has any ill perceptions of our High Lord and High Lady. You are to do as we say whenever we say it, without questions, demands, or protest. If you provoke a fight in our city, physical or verbal – you will be executed. If you show any disrespect towards our people, even lack a single _please_ or _thank you_ , your body will be given to Azriel. If you even speak of the conflict with Magnus and the outside world beyond this living room, your head will be sent to your mother's new lover. And, lastly, you are nobody. You are not the High Lord of Autumn. You are not Beron's son, you're not an heir, and you are not anyone special. You are Jurian's. That's all you are until we decide what to do with you. Eris Vanserra doesn't even exist." There was a quietness between them as Eris digested her words. He wasn't surprised, not even angry at her demands. If anything, he was expecting worse. They were allowing him to roam the city? To speak to their people? To live like a normal citizen? The mercy was too great for him to believe.

"And none of you are going to check up on me? Make sure I'm not plotting some diabolical plan? Bullshit." Eris snorted. And then she smiled. A wicked, wicked smile. A smile that would make most fae shudder.

"Because I'm the proxy of the Court of Nightmares, and you have been so earnest in keeping relations with my father, I will be checking in regularly to make sure nobody gives you trouble." Evil, _evil_ little thing. She wasn't doing this because she wanted to look after him, she was doing it because she wanted him to know that they would never be allies. She had the power against him forever. At any moment, at any time, she could kill him without any repercussions easily. She wanted to terrify him. And more than that, she wanted to make sure he knew that he would never be able to manipulate her – he would never be able to use the bond to get himself out, because she would never let her guard down. There would be no room for forgiveness.

"You look like you might be sick, Eris. Are you okay?" The delight in her voice was nauseating.

"Come on, Morrigan. Don't you think this feud has gone on for a bit too long? Especially now that we're practically neighbors?" He asked silkily. But his tone didn't hide the desperation behind his words. Desperate for her to walk out and never look at him again. Maybe he'd run into her occasionally on the street and he'd have to tolerate her glares, or be called into Rhysand's townhouse to be mocked and belittled ever so often, but he didn't want this. He didn't want to be reminded of her hatred every day.

"What did you expect?" She drawled as she picked at her nails. "For me to just let it go?" He opened his mouth stupidly, but he didn't know how to reply so she continued. "Or did you expect me to go head over heels? To forgive you? To think you are any less than scum simply because of an evolutionary reaction? Do you want me to fall into your arms, Eris, is that it?" He almost laughed. Her voice was cruel, but her questions were certainly not rhetorical. Maybe she was curious about what he did and didn't know when it pertained to the bond but didn't have the nerve to directly ask, or maybe she was just taunting him because she knew, deep down, that this had to be affecting him – either way, it wasn't a conversation he wanted to be a part of.

"You want to fall into my arms, go ahead, Morrigan," Eris said, not skipping a beat. "But don't expect me to catch you. Because I won't." She stopped picking her nails and looked up at him slowly. It wasn't that she expected him to secretly be in love with her, he knew that, it was the coldness that seeped out of his words. That he deeply, truthfully, didn't want her in the littlest, even if it they weren't enemies. But, despite his honesty, she looked at him darker than she had when he walked into the room. Like now, those words had made him regress ten steps when it came to his self-worth.

"What? You thought I really cared enough to change you? To truly push you into being the person you secretly want to be like _Phillip_ had? Hoping that I had some sort of magical excuse that erases what I did to you just so you can prove to everybody, Rhysand especially, that you are capable of finding love? To prove that you are more than Rhysand's servant?" Eris went on, letting out a small laugh. "I am not a mother bird, Morrigan. I am not going to push you out of the nest. You'll have to do that all by yourself, like a big girl." She held his gaze for a moment, the seconds lengthening. And that's what she had mated with – a man who didn't care. Who not only didn't desire her, but could truthfully care less what happened to her. It was a lie, it was all a lie, and he could've easily said something more dismissive, but he wanted to make sure that she wouldn't get anything out of having this conversation. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. He sold his soul to become the man he was, to surpass all the obstacles people swore he'd never survive. To get to him, she would have to do the same.

"I look forward to speaking to you tomorrow," she said finally. There was no smile on her lips. "Sweet dreams."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The place was trashed. Windows were broken, doors were in shreds, and the once-beautiful hallways were unlit and decorated with old blood stains. There were only a handful of sentries lingering around – more than she thought he had initially, but not enough to protect the estate if someone were to attack. It was probably the reason why Tamlin didn't stand his ground against Magnus – he didn't have the resources to win a fight if Magnus did decide to attack him. The Spring Court was in fact _slowly_ healing, but Tamlin couldn't fix this place by himself.

"I can't stay here for years," Eva told him. The sun was dimming now and at a distance, she could hear the nocturnal Spring Court creatures begin to awaken. She hadn't spoken in hours, she felt like she was frozen in time. She had silently accepted a tour of the estate once Tamlin saw the horror on her face. Two, maybe three hours, had gone by as Tamlin showed her every room, every broom closet, that inhabited the Spring Court estate. She assumed he was being gracious because he didn't want her having a mental breakdown, but he didn't understand. She was Beron's pet for years, centuries even, and she was tired of being a victim of other men's actions.

"That's your first sentence in hours," Tamlin said with slight humor, his eyebrows perked up. "This is my father's daughter's room. She died at the age of five, and because she was illegitimate, she spent most of her time in the lower levels of the castle. I don't-"

"I don't care," Eva said suddenly. "I don't care about your siblings, or who decorated what room, or where your favorite hiding places were as a child. I want _out_." Finally, Tamlin froze. They had already been through this conversation and how he could not assist her, and at first she was okay with the answer because she believed that Magnus would be back in a few days, but when Tamlin said it would be _years_ …

"Forgive me, Eva," Tamlin said, a coldness in his tone. "But where do you think you'll end up when Magnus comes back? Do you think he'll be merciful to you? Do you think he'll give you back to Helion on the weekends?" She didn't know. She had barely even thought of Helion. She couldn't…it hurt too much. And not only that, but she knew that Helion wouldn't fight for her. He would want to, it would nearly kill him not to fight for her, but he wouldn't. He couldn't risk his resources on a widow who practically belonged to someone else. He couldn't go to war over a woman.

"I can't just give up on my child," Eva said quietly. "Eris is my child, Tamlin." And for a second, she saw a glisten of sympathy. A brokenness that he understood.

"You're talented," Tamlin admitted evenly. "Practical, knowledgeable, even a bit calculating. But more than that, you care. You care fiercely. I could give you a job here, Eva. You could work for me. I will treat you as an employee, as a member of my court. And while doing that, we can talk about Eris. Depending on if you can prove that you are trustworthy, that is." She held his tight gaze for a moment before giving out a laugh.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Tamlin," Eva said, her smile not quite matching her eyes. Tamlin let out a low snarl.

"I just offered you a position at my court-"

"So that I would stop fighting for Eris! Because everyone thinks that he is not worth saving."

"Yeah, and so what? Are you saying I'm wrong? Are you saying that your son isn't a psychopath?" His words echoed against the hollow estate and she was silent for a moment. She could feel her face burn, as if he had slapped her. Very few people had ever entered this territory with her, directly asking her about why her children were psychopaths, but he had. The High Lord of Spring decided that he was worthy of an explanation.

"I don't owe you anything," she said slowly, clipping each word. "Nothing." Tamlin was still for a second and then let out a small laugh.

"Is it so bad for the Cauldron to ask you to fight for something else?" Tamlin snapped. "I'm giving you an opportunity to live, to remake yourself, and you keep bringing up your son. I'm sorry he is gone, I truthfully am, but out of all of them…why is he the one you're fighting for? Lucien was taken by the Night Court too. Yet, you insist on fighting for the one who is the least likely to be good. You have to see why I can't allow that." So much, so many accusations. So many questions, so many holes that he was opening. And for what? Did he really want an explanation?

"Why do I love Eris more than the rest? Almost as much as Lucien?" Eva repeated with a sigh. "Because he called on you, Tamlin. When he saw Lucien was about to die, he called on you. Eris would have never saved any of my other sons, but he would save Lucien. Not that it made him a good person – saving Lucien doesn't erase his faults. But he saw how much Lucien loved that poor girl. It was like he realized that Lucien had a shot at being normal, like he empathized with Lucien's soft heart, and maybe even envied it, so he saved him." There were many emotions on Tamlin's face – sadness, shock, maybe even a little bit of resentment. She could tell that not only did speaking about Lucien hit a hard spot, but he clearly didn't know what Eris did. He had gotten the warning that Lucien needed help anonymously, he didn't know it was Eris who sent it.

"Lucien was…good," Tamlin murmured carefully. "He was never an inconvenience. He helped – even when there was nothing to do, he still helped. He didn't seek refuge here, Eva. I sought refuge in him in a time where refuge didn't exist. And if you're saying that the reason Lucien was with me was due to Eris's actions, then that means…I owe him." Her eyes glistened.

"What are you saying, Tamlin?" Eva whispered. Tamlin's face tightened.

"We are getting Eris back."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Holy shit. I just finished that. That was twenty-two pages. I deserve some reviews.


End file.
